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ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 



From "The Friends in Need" 

We girls feel that we know the American soldiers 
thoroughly, for we served with the Regular Army, 
the National Guard, and the National Army, and we 
served with them while they rested and played and 
while they fought and died. 

Always they were true Americans, playing with 
zest and fighting with determination and invincible 
courage. 

There is not a tribute too high to pay them and we 
feel that we were very privileged to have been with 
them at the front, from their first activity in the lines 
until the last gun was fired. 

Very cordially yours, 

Irene McIntyre. 
Gladys E. McIntyre. 



ECHOES 
FROM OVER THERE 

BY THE MEN OF THE ARMY AND 

MARINE CORPS WHO FOUGHT 

IN FRANCE 



Edited by CRAIG HAMILTON 
and LOUISE CORBIN, Authors 
of "The Sword of the Valley," 
"The Heart of a Regular," etc. 



Illustrated 



Published by 

The Soldiers' Publishing Company 

New York City 



$ 






D 



. 



Copyright, 1919, by 

The Soldiers' Publishing Company 

All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign 

languages, including the Scandinavian. 



©CU51 5 



Dancey-Davis Press 
New York 



JUN 1 7 uid 



TO 

THE MIGHTY FINE CHAPS 

WE LEFT OVER THERE 



PREFACE 

Ask a doughboy or an officer about "over there" 
these days, and nine times out of ten his answer will 
be, "Oh, what's the use of talking about it? Folks are 
tired of hearing about the war." 

The boys, lately returned, are eager to tell us of 
what they have seen and endured. Is it possible there 
is no audience for the moving stories of our young 
heroes? 

We believe that people, through the return, or non- 
return, of some loved one, are now so familiar with 
the reality of the Great War that they have little inter- 
est in war fiction. The day of the war play with its 
battle raging offstage, and the novel with its villain 
regenerated on the field, is past. 

Instead, we long to look into the eyes of our young 
fighters and hear from their own lips, authentic details 
of what happened overseas. 

Will you yawn and think of other matters when 
your boy stretches his legs before your fireplace once 
more and begins, "Well, Dad, it was this way. We 
went over the top at — " 

Or, if your boy paid the supreme price and lies with 
lips forever sealed, would you not listen hungrily to 
the story told by a member of his own company, by his 
Buddy, perhaps? 

Possibly, you had no one dear to you to send across. 
You must still be eager to learn all you can of that 
strange world of death, and struggle, and unimagin- 
able bravery into which our untried youth advanced, 
and from which they have emerged, laurel crowned, 
our great, national pride. 

We offer you in this volume, not the skillful work 
of fiction writers, but veritable human documents. The 
boys themselves wrote these stories, or dictated them 
from their hospital beds. 

You will find adjectives and elaborate descriptive 
writing conspicuously lacking. But if you have imag- 



ination, what inspiring drama you will find between 
the lines of these abrupt, little narratives! 

And if you lack imagination, these tales must still 
be eloquent, for they are abrim with the personalities 
of the boys, so only a heart is necessary to understand 
and love them. 

The Editors. 



CONTENTS 






Page 


McIntyre Girls' Letter 


iii 


Preface 


1 



Part I. 

The First to Fight 

The Stories of the Marines 

Private T. S. Allen 9 

Lieutenant J. A. Brady 19 

Soldier's Letter 25 

Sergeant Samuel P. Capwell 27 

Soldier's Letter 33 

Corporal Meyer J. Lapine 35 

Private Winslow Belton Marshall 40 

Private Frank M. Jacobs 45 

Private Wayne W. French 54 

Private Frank J. Vanderhoven 63 

Soldier's Letter 67 

Corporal Paul Bonner 69 

Soldier's Letter 72 

Part II. 
The Old Army and the New 

Captain Wilmar Bradshaw 75 

Private Hyman Zucker 83 

Sergeant Ray Smith 85 

Private Charles C. Weise 90 

Letter from Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt 95 

Private Roy Miller 97 

Sergeant Spiras Thomas 99 



Page 

Private Irving Abrahams 103 

Private Charles A. Pettit 107 

Private Albert Marks Ill 

Sergeant Joseph Morini 115 

American Official Communique No. 133. ... 119 

Corporal John H. Bennet 121 

Appendix I. 

"Passed by the Censor" 123 

Part III. 

The National Army and Other Troops 

Captain George U. Harvey 137 

Private Joseph Rigler 153 

Private Joseph Sisenwein 157 

Private George Hart 169 

Lieutenant Sidney Schoenfeld 177 

Prviate Louis Weinberg 180 

Private Larry Wolff 182 

Sergeant Max Wicker 189 

Corporal Alan Streat 193 

Sergeant Sidney Ettinger 197 

Citation — Sergeant W. Maloney 199 

Sergeant Victor Vigorito (Johnny Victor) 200 

Sergeant Michael Donaldson 233 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

Gladys and Irene McIntyre Frontispiece 

Private T. S. Allen 7 

Sergeant Samuel Capwell 26 

Corporal Meyer Lapine 34 

Private Frank Vanderhoven 62 

Corporal Paul Bonner 68 

Captain Wilmar Bradshaw 74 

Private Hyman Zucker 82 

Private Roy Miller 97 

Private Irving Abrahams 102 

Private Albert Marks 110 

Sergeant Joseph Morini 114 

Corporal John Bennet 120 

Captain George Harvey 136 

Private Joseph Rigler 152 

Private Joseph Sisenwein 156 

Private George Hart 168 

Sergeant Max Wicker 188 

Sergeant Michael Donaldson 232 









PARTI 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 




PRIVATE T. S. ALLEN 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 



THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Private T. S. Allen 

Born in Clear Lake, South Dakota, December 21, 1896. 
Enlisted in United States Marine Corps May 2, 1917. 
Wounded and gassed in Belleau Wood May 8, 1918, still in 
Pclham Bay Hospital. 

His Own Story 

When I emerged from, kilts or whatever it was I 
wore as a kid, and acquired my first sling shot, I began 
to hanker for a fight. While the sun was high in the 
heavens, I would venture forth from the house in 
search of "redskins" and the bold bad men whose ex- 
ploits we still heard much of in the west of my child- 
hood. As the shadows lengthened, the house always 
looked good to me while my mother's arms and my 
father's towering bulk offered a most welcome retreat 
from the hostile hordes my youthful imagination had 
conjured up. 

In time, I became the proud possessor of a gun and 
my father taught me to use and respect it. 

As was natural, my reading ran to the deeds of the 
men of the last frontier; then along came my school 
histories with their stories of Lexington and Bunker 
Hill, Valley Forge, Lundy's Lane, Chapultepec. 
These seemed to me like those stories which begin, 
"There were giants in those days." Still, they gave a 
heroic background in my mind for the closer events of 
the Civil War, and the brief but glorious episodes of 
the War with Spain, in reading of which I was first 
introduced to the Marines. 

This may seem going a long ways back, but, I take 
it, that in telling my story I am telling the story of 
the thousands of mighty fine lads we left "over there," 
for in these fragments of my youthful activities and 



10 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

mental processes I believe is the key to the miracle 
we wrought in France. 

As the years ran on, I did not plan to be a merchant, 
or a lawyer, or farmer, but kept to my books, my hunt- 
ing and fishing and my dreams of soldiering, — of "the 
day of glory." 

How angry I used to get at the pacifists who wanted 
to abolish war, for I counted myself, even then, as 
among the "red blooded" that Teddy was always ap- 
pealing to. And how ill I thought Fate had used me, 
in that I had been born too late for even the "Relief 
of Pekin." 

I was, of course, ashamed of my military dreams, 
and after the fashion of youth, carried them hid in 
my heart where they fed hungrily. 

The War in Europe, however, found me, at first, 
strangely unresponsive. Of course, I was interested 
and read everything about it that I could get hold of, 
but it did not seem real to me. I just could not believe 
somehow, that armies were once more arrayed for 
battle. 

But the ferment was at work. As the war ran on, 
month after month, I became, first of all, a partisan. 
It was the Canadians who "got" me. 

They came from our side of the water. Many of 
them were Americans, so the papers said. Well, if the 
Americans were fighting, I was with them, no matter 
what uniform they wore. 

There were many German sympathizers in our neck 
of the woods, and I had all the fighting I wanted every 
day at school. 

Nothing like fighting for a thing to make a man 
value it. 

I began to turn over in my mind the project of run- 
ning away to join the Canadians, but something held 
me back. 

Then America entered the War. My long dreamed 
of day had come. 

On May 2, 1917, at Maryland, California, I enlisted 
in the Marines. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 11 

The first to fight ! It seemed to me that I belonged 
among the first. 

One may ask, "Why the Marines?" 

Well, as I have said, I had read a great deal of our 
history and I had seen a few soldiers and an occasional 
Marine. • The soldiers looked like husky chaps, but 
there was something about the Marines you could 
not forget. 

Alert, clean, always minding their own business, 
getting all that was their due quietly but firmly, they 
left a deep impression on me of being men who were 
able to look out for themselves in' any situation. 

I may seem a "stuck up" boy to have elected myself 
to that illustrious company. But I tell you I felt that 
I "belonged." 

For fourteen weeks, they put me through the marine 
course of training at the Maryland Camp and I'm 
frank to admit that there were many bitter moments 
when I wondered if I had not paid myself too much 
of a compliment in picking out the Marines. 

There were many things about them, too, which sur- 
prised me. Though the occasional Marines I had seen 
had been young men, still my idea of a Marine had 
been a grizzled old fighting man, who was a cross be- 
tween John L. Sullivan and a bull fighter. My com- 
panions in camp were youths like myself, even the 
sergeants and most of the lieutenants were but little 
older than myself. 

One thing helped me with the outfit. I qualified on 
the range as a sharpshooter and the drill-sergeants did 
the rest. 

I was a Marine and I was not. 

I belonged and I did not. So matters stood ; when 
they shipped us to Quantico, Virginia. 

On the way, we had a train wreck. Some of the 
bunch were killed and many were hurt. Life and the 
service gained something of reality from that expe- 
rience. But when we reached Quantico, and as a 
member of the 78th Company, I also became one of 
the 6th Regiment of the United States Marine Corps, 



12 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

I really first came into my heritage of "belonging" to 
the Marines. 

Colonel A. W. Catlin, now Brigadier-General Catlin, 
was our commanding officer and he sure could put jazz 
into a lot of men, gathered from all over the country, 
and make them feel that a regiment of Marines was 
the greatest thing they ever had been or ever would be 
associated with. 

Drill, drill, inspection, and still more drill. Then 
along about the middle of January, 1918, we slipped 
aboard a transport one night and sailed for France, 
arriving at St. Nazaire on February 3rd. 

France did not look anything like I thought it 
would. I had expected to see everything smart and 
sort of all aressed up. But here it was old fashioned. 
French soldiers going about in uniforms of bright 
colors. Red trousers and gold braid. The lighthouses 
and cottages painted all colors, pink, yellow and blue; 
and the people as quaint as the town. 

"Some one has been telling it to the Marines," said 
my comrade oi the moment, "this place ain't France. I 
know better. I seen too many movies of Paris down in 
Newport, Tennessee, where I come from." 

He found those to agree and disagree with him. 
A heated argument started which the bugler stopped 
as he barked us an order. 

The people were kind to us, though somewhat shy. 
They struck me as being disappointed in a way, as 
though we were not up to sample. I didn't get it at 
the time, but I made up my mind later that they were 
looking for something about seven feet tall with whis- 
kers, like the bearded lady in the circus. 

A three-day trip in tiny box cars brought us to Robe- 
court, a town near Nancy, where we began some more 
training and learned about cooties, and trenches, rats, 
French weather, and mud. 

By the middle of March, we were on the line, having 
taken over some old French trenches near Verdun. 
It was a quiet sector, a so-called training sector. 

We had patrol work, and "stood to," and went 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 13 

through all the rest of it. While there were a few 
of the fellows killed, it seemed unreal, as it had in 
the newspapers at the beginning of the war. Frankly, 
we were bored and little interested, and could not un- 
derstand why it had been necessary to bring us over 
to finish the job. 

Then it got to be June, and they moved us up to a 
place you have read about called Belleau Wood. I'd 
say that position held our attention all right. It sure 
did measure up to everything one had ever heard of. 
or imagined about this war or any other. 

The country was broken. There were wheat fields 
tucked in among patches of brush and tall trees. An 
occasional village half seen, half hidden among trees 
and foliage. Ravines, little knolls and hills and, just 
where we entrenched, a great rough stretch of forest, 
rolling up and spreading out to either side. 

Our line ran along the crest of ground rising above 
a small ravine. There were a few rods of open ground 
and then the woods. Belleau Wood. 

The world was filled with confusion, noise and ex- 
citement. The French troops we came in touch with, 
had been having a hard time of it, around that neigh- 
borhood, and some had been shot up elsewhere and 
brought there for rest. A fine place to rest I'd say 
it was. 

My company dug its fox holes along the line of the 
ravine. The Huns left us pretty much alone while 
we were at it; I guess because a drove of French 
"seventy-fives" somewhere back of us were worrying 
them about up to capacity. 

Being marines, we knew that if the French guns 
were putting in shell as fast as they were, something 
was due to come along. 

Sure enough ! The German guns began to tune up. 
A deepening roar came from the hills beyond the 
woods, while out from the concealed machine gun po- 
sitions in the woods, a well-directed machine gun fire 
whipped our position. 

We were being punished without being able to reply, 



14 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

for the woods hid the enemy from us. The French 
''seventy-fives" seemed to sense our uneasiness, for they 
increased the volume of their fire in a great wave. 

"Here they come !" a shrill boyish voice piped up. 

"Hold your fire!" the injunction ran from officer 
to officer and man to man. 

The German barrage lifted ; the French guns almost 
ceased firing. The men about me were cursing and 
swearing in that choice collection of profanity that be- 
longs to the Marines. It took me back swiftly, on 
the wings of memory, to a lonely walk in the woods I 
had taken, as a boy, when I had whistled to keep up 
my courage. 

The German troops were clear of the woods. On 
they came with closed ranks in four lines. One looked 
at them with almost a friendly interest. No particular 
hate or fear. And yet there was a queer sensation 
along the spine, and the scalp seemed to itch from 
the tug of the hair at the roots. The fingers bit into 1 
the rifle. 

"Hold your fire !" 

As the command rang on my ears with a sharpness 
that enforced obedience, I seemed to be standing on 
Bunker Hill and hear the command : "Wait till you see 
the whites of their eyes !" 

I think I know how those old Yanks felt that day, 
as the enemy drew nearer and nearer. 

The next I recall is firing. Firing. Firing. My 
fingers were tearing greedily at more ammunition, 
then the instinct of the hunter restrained me. I began 
to fire slower, looking for my mark, making sure of a 
hit. The Huns now appeared to me almost on top of 
us and then, all of a sudden, there was nothing more 
to aim at. A few scattered groups with hands held 
up, racing for our lines and shouting "Kamerad! 
Kamerad !" 

We had ceased firing, but still these terror stricken 
men withered away. It was their own machine gun- 
ners behind them, in the woods, deliberately shooting 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 15 

their own men who had failed to carry home an im- 
possible charge. 

I felt suddenly sick. From that moment, I hated the 
Hun and treated him without mercy. 

The German guns opened on us again and the 
French replied. Another period of torment began; 
a period when many gallant lads "went west" or, badly 
wounded, were sent to the rear after dark. 

Our position was the most advanced of the whole 
line. 

The Hun wanted us out of there, but there we stayed 
until relieved and the fighting had swept to other parts 
of the line. 

A little later, I mean of course a few days later, the 
defensive game was over. We had the ball, and the 
line we had to put it across was Bouresches. The 96th 
company of Marines was on our right, if my memory 
is correct, and under cover of our advance and the ex- 
cellent work of the guns, a handful of them reached 
the town. The fields they had crossed were brown 
with the bodies of our boys, who had not sought to take 
cover but had driven straight ahead at their object in 
the face of continuous bursts of well-directed machine 
gun fire. 

Oh, the Huns bled us that day ! But the blood was 
not shed in vain, for the whole German line, clear 
to the English channel, creaked from the blow struck 
by a handful of American Marines, most of whom 
were under twenty-one. 

Well, as I started to say, a handful of the 96th got 
into town and hung on by the skin of their teeth while 
fighting hand to hand with picked German shock 
troops. They managed to get a runner back asking for 
help, and I'd say every man in the division (the Sec- 
ond) wanted to go to their help. 

They got about a platoon together finally, from po- 
sitions where a man or two could be spared, and they 
went through to help the 96th. We held Bouresches 
when that fight was over. 

Once more the war had measured up to expectations. 



16 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Our dead were numbered by the thousands, and 
we had been tested, almost to the limit. There had 
been no time for thinking, little to notice what was 
going on. 

One simply fought by instinct and, being a Marine, 
fought in the right way. Did the correct thing. Ma- 
rines are born, not made by enlisting in the corps. 
Enlisting in the corps simply develops the Marine 
or uncovers a yellow streak and the man is dropped. 
All the drill in the world would not teach men the 
things that I saw boys like Paul Bonner of New York 
do. Paul, who used to be a jewelry salesman before 
the war, and joined the Marines because he, too, 
thought that he belonged ! Paul who always kept his 
smile and his head, and who threw his life away a 
dozen times in a day and lived to come home ! 

I can't go on and carry you through the fight for 
Belleau Wood. It needs a book itself, but as this is 
my story, I'll jump ahead a little to where I was hit. 

Our lines were advancing by sheer pluck. I think 
it was in the afternoon of June 13th, that my company 
took up a position in a heavily wooded valley. When 
I say heavily wooded, I mean a place where the 
thickets of underbrush grew between the trees higher 
than a tall man's head, and paths and roads were few 
and far between, while the heavy foliage of early 
spring overhead, shut out the light of day until it 
was always twilight among the trees, and at night so 
dark a man could not see his hand before his face. No 
use trying to wear a gas mask, for you could not see 
with it on, and twigs and branches were always tear- 
ing it out of position. 

The German planes had been watching us all day, 
and they knew where we were all right. 

It was a desperate hole for troops to be in, and we 
were deployed of necessity to cover the front, as well 
as for protection from the shell fire we knew was 
coming. 

The late afternoon and evening passed quietly. We 
slipped some men back to a well from which the Ger- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 17 

man dead had been taken but a few hours before. 
The water was foul with taint, but at least it was 
water. Chow was due along about midnight, and in 
spite of the wickedness of our situation we began to 
cheer up. In the morning, it was our job to clean out 
the last of Belleau Wood in our front. 

Almost on the hour of midnight, when the chow was 
being distributed, the Hun opened up everything in 
that part of the country on the valley, which had, of 
course, been accurately registered. 

H. E., shrapnel, whizz bangs, and mustard gas shell 
rained on us. 

There was no standing such fire. It meant annihila- 
tion for the whole unit and perhaps a hole in our line. 
There was but one thing to do, and that was to get 
out before the gas had done its work. 

We began to feel our way out of the trap. The 
darkness of the place was made darker still by the 
flashes of the exploding shell ; the mustard gas was 
getting in its devilish work, while perfectly helpless 
before the wrath of the Hun, we stumbled blindly and 
in agony toward the rear. 

The human senses reeled into oblivion before such 
an attack. Men lived by the spirit that is in them, 
"carrying on," though it was to the rear, with a thought 
for the honor of the regiment and for the need of the 
boy next who had fallen. 

We came out of that place finally — some of us. 

And we came out as an organized military command. 
We had our weapons with us and our wounded. 
Driven back, decimated, in agony, but still conscious 
that we were Marines of the 6th Regiment, whose 
dead had fallen without a chance for a blow. 

Every survivor in the company went to the hospital, 
except the two cooks who were not there. 

It was in that engagement, that I was hit and gassed. 

I do not recall being hit, though I had a shrapnel 
bullet through my leg. 

Now, I have written for you of the boyhood hours 
when in my mind, as well as in the minds of my fel- 



18 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

lows, the mental thews were being formed. And I 
have told you as briefly as I know how, perhaps too 
briefly, of the hours when those thews were tested. 
I hope it will be a little plainer just how it was we 
went over so blithely, and bore ourselves so well. 

It was September, before I was back with my regi- 
ment to go with it through to the signing of the armis- 
tice. The gas and the wound, however, still bothered 
me so I went to the hospital again and have just re- 
turned to the United States. At the time of writing 
this, on May 8th, I am still in Pelham Bay hospital. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THER E J9 

II. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Lieutenant Joseph A. Brady 

Reporter for New York Evening World. Commissioned a 
Lieutenant and assigned second battalion, Fifth Regiment of 
United States Marine Corps. Fought at Belleau Wood and 
in the Soissons offensive. 

His Own Story of the First Day of the Offensive 

Suppose you were a soldier and for four months a 
strong and hideous enemy had been heaving steadily 
into the columns of your army great quantities of gas, 
flame, shells and bullets and had been ceaselessly forc- 
ing you back; and you, sometimes starving and thirsty, 
had been fighting him back, and then suppose on a 
clear summer morning the earth had opened and 
drawn your enemy into a literal vortex of hellfire, what 
would you do? Would you first go into a wild de- 
lirium of joy and then fall down in the fields in a deep, 
contented sleep? That is just what most of us did 
who had been fighting for four months when the great 
offensive of the Allied Armies overwhelmed the Ger- 
man Army south of Soissons on July 18 last. 

When we stepped from the auto trucks in which we 
had been riding for thirty hours, on the afternoon of 
July 17, on the edge of the Villers-Cotterets Forest, we 
did not know that we were going into battle, but we 
did know that we were tired and hungry. We looked 
for food and there was none. We looked for water, 
but it was poisonous, and guards with bayonets kept 
it from us. The only food was grass, and we could eat 
that without water. There were thousands of us there, 
but each man only thought or realized that he alone 
was there. 

We wearily plodded through the deep roads of the 
forest, but we did not know where we were going. 



20 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Then we noticed cavalry, thousands of horses, standing 
quietly in the woods. And tanks, standing silent and 
appearing not at all like the great demons we had been 
told they were. Guns were everywhere, large, medium 
and small. Two hundred thousand men were there, 
and on that quiet summer day beyond the confines of 
the forest you would not know there was a soul there. 
Enemy aeroplanes above hummed and the aviators 
peered in vain through the thick foliage of the mighty 
trees. 

Night came, and with it rain and lightning, and 
thunder, and action. The tanks, the great guns and the 
ammunition wagons rumbled out on the roads. The sol- 
diers staggered along up to their knees in mud in the 
ditches alongside the roads; now and then they 
cried out as a horse slipped and a wagon filled with 
heavy shells fell and crushed some of them. For forty- 
eight hours some had been without sleep. The officers 
fought every step of the way to keep alert for what 
was to come, and they prayed to God the Germans 
would not find out what was going on, for knowledge 
to the Germans then would have meant certain de- 
struction to a great allied army. 

Somewhere along the fifth mile, we were stopped 
and a call for officers went out. We, the officers of the 
5th Regiment, United States Marines, assembled in a 
little clearing and met Col. Logan Pheland. He told 
us briefly we were going to attack and attack big — - 
along a thirty-mile front. We had the post of honor, 
he said, along with the 1st American Division, and 
French Zouaves were to be on our left. My battalion, 
the 2d, was to be in the first wave ; X day and Z hour 
were the time for the attack. We laughed, for we 
knew it meant in plain language early the next 
morning. 

I was battalion scout officer and Major Ralph S. 
Kayser gave me the maps and told me to mark off* the 
objectives and directions. In the pouring rain, and 
with the help of my smothered flashlight, I marked the 
maps and handed them out to the company command- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 21 

ers. I saw that Capt. Wass was there, Lieut. Elliott 
Cooke, Lieut. Becker, Lieut. Zyschke and myself. We 
were all that were left out of the nine officers that 
started in the mess of the 18th Company at Verdun in 
March. The next night Wass and Becker were dead, 
and Cooke, Zyschke and I were headed for the hos- 
pital. Two days before, Zyschke and I had matched to 
see who would be the next officer to go to the States 
as an instructor and Zyschke had won ; he was to leave 
after the attack. 

Col. Pheland called to me and asked me to go ahead 
of the regiment with him to find the guides who were 
to take us to the jumping-ofT place. We plunged 
ahead, dodging horses, tanks and artillery. It was 
pitch dark, the only light coming from an occasional 
flash of lightning. On we went to the Paris road 
where the guides were to be. 'No one was there. We 
awakened sleepy French artillery officers, but they told 
us they had just arrived and could not help us. We 
stood in the woods waiting for the battalions with no 
definite idea of where to go, and in an hour and a half, 
at 4:30 A.M., we were to attack. 

Right there came deep if unspoken curses; no 
guides, no time, no food, little ammunition and pre- 
cious little information, except that in an hour and 
a half two thousand guns would open a barrage which 
we were to follow, and a hundred thousand German 
shell would fail to stop us before we were within a 
mile of where we were to attack. The battalions came 
up and we plodded on. When we stopped figuring 
how we were going to pull out, we prayed. 

Daylight came suddenly. It revealed artillery of- 
ficers standing just within the forest borders with 
watches in their hands. It revealed twenty minutes 
to make the attacking point, and it showed a thousand 
yards away a small arms ammunition dump. The 
men rushed to the dump. I saw a dozen French sol- 
diers hurrying away. They had been relieved from 
the trenches. I ran after them. One of them spoke 
English. He had lived in New York. 



22 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

"Guides," I shouted. "Guides, soldiers to take us 
in. We are late. Hurry ; hurry." 

The Frenchman, who spoke English, hurriedly ex- 
plained to the others, and these dozen poilus, who were 
on their way out to safety, water and food, turned and 
volunteered to lead us in. They knew it meant death. 
It did, indeed, to some of them, and they went back 
to take it, all for La Patrie and because the Americans 
asked them. 

The men were grabbing ammunition, bullets and 
grenades and as fast as they finished, I was putting 
them in charge of a poilu to lead them in. The last 
man cleared. Down the road we went, running, for 
the artillery officers would be calling off the seconds 
now. Then it came. I heard a quiet human voice. I 
suppose it said fire. Perhaps many voices said it. In 
a second came the blast of two thousand guns. The 
concussion almost threw us over but we went on, catch- 
ing our breaths and hardly knowing for a minute what 
it was. 

There was no noise, that is, no distinct noise, there 
was just a terrible heaving and tearing. I say the im- 
pression was that there was no noise, because men next 
to you were shouting and you could not hear them. It 
was so noisy you could not hear anything, but some- 
thing that prevented hearing. You could see, however, 
and ahead we saw soaring lights, the signal lights of 
the Germans calling for their barrage. 

The first German shell hit in the hard road ahead 
of us. We saw it. We did not hear it. It cut away 
the first eight men of our column. Into the ditches at 
the side of the road we tumbled and the German 
barrage hit on the road. We had been caught before 
we got in ! 

A minute we lay there under the pounding md then 
in the forest to the right and left, we saw huge trees 
going up by the roots and French soldiers with ropes 
about them hauling them down. Trees a hundred feet 
tall were falling. The French had mined under the 
roots and were blowing them up to make new roads 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 23 

for the tanks. Then the monsters came plunging 
through. It was our chance ! While the German 
barrage was falling on the main roads, the French were 
going through the forest and that was where we 
headed with the soaring signal lights of the German 
line as our objective. 

The rain had stopped and the sun was out. We 
reached the edge of the black woods and rushed out 
into a wheat field. The green and golden fields 
stretched away for five miles and ahead we went. 
Overhead a hundred aeroplanes were moving; not 
circling as they seem to be when they are high, but 
rushing and tearing a few hundred feet above us. And 
ahead in the fields German batteries with gun noses 
pointed a few inches above the wheat were flashing 
out. 

But greater than all, not many yards away, were 
groups of Germans running low toward us with their 
hands up, abject terror in their faces. Our barrage 
was going on now and through the spurting fountains 
of earth which it was sending up, we could see hun- 
dreds of Germans running before it and we could see 
scores of tanks plunging into them, spitting machine 
gun and shell fire at them. Now and then, one of our 
own would go down but Germans were going by the 
score. Suddenly fast armored motor cars swept up 
the side roads firing into the German machine gunners 
in the gulleys as they went. 

The men were wild as they tore on. No fatigue 
now, just Boche lust. Over the old German trenches 
they ran stopping only for the occasional obstinate 
Boche who kept firing until they got him. We struck 
the first objective, an old farm house, and we dove 
into the cellars. That first line of boys kept going on. 
It could not be stopped at the first objective. 

In the cool cellar of the first farm house I stopped 
with Major Kayser, and the Battalion Adjutant, Lieut. 
LeGendre. It was the objective and we had to ^et the 
men together to go on further. A few dead Germans 
were above the cellar but inside was a queer scene. 



24 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

The candles were still lighted on the table and the 
breakfast of the German Captain was still there. We 
ate some of the black bread, sipped some of the Rhine 
wine, searched for maps and information and hurried 
out to go further. 

Miles out, tanks and armored motor cars were still 
smashing into the German line, aeroplanes were fight- 
ing a dozen battles overhead, artillery was rushing up, 
stopping a few minutes at a time to fire. Everywhere 
our men were lying about in the fields. Dead? No. 
Just asleep. 

"Hell, they're licked," grouched the first one awak- 
ened by a Sergeant, "and I don't see why I've got to 
run 'em to death." 

The story of how the gallant kids who had stopped 
the Boche for four months, and who went crazy with 
joy when they started him to Berlin, then laid down 
under the shell fire and slept for an hour, is one story. 
But how they roused themselves from their sleep and 
started after him and kept going after him for three 
days is another. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 25 



Soldier's Letter 

"I saw the Germans who were on outpost duty 
dash back into the woods to give the warning that the 
Americans were coming. A command ripped along 
the column and we deployed into skirmish formation 
on the run, broke into our battle yell, and charged the 
woods on the very heels of the enemy's outpost. 

'The Huns did not have a chance to fire a shot be- 
fore we were among them. They were good troops 
and stayed to fight it out. I have been in some fights 
before this, but this was the bloodiest work of the war, 
so far for me. 

"A Hun struck at me with his bayonet. I could not 
defend myself with my' gun at the moment as a branch 
was in the way. I parried the thrust with my left arm, 
let go my gun, ducked, the way Young Fulton taught 
us in camp, and uppercut the fellow hard. He fell 
back stunned. With the knife I had in my leggings, I 
finished him neatly, recovered my gun, and went on. 

"It takes time to tell it, but it happened faster than 
you could think. Uncle Sam sure did something for 
us boys when he had us taught to use our 'dukes.' I 
don't know whether Fulton is over here or not, but 
if he is still in America, I wish you would send him 
my letter, for I want him to know he saved one boy's 
life." 




SERGEANT S. P. CAPWELL 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 27 

III. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Sergeant Samuel P. Capwell 

Born in the State of Pennsylvania. Enlisted in United 
States Marine Corps in Detroit, Michigan, on September 9, 
19.17. Trained Paris Island and Quantico, Va. Sent to 
France August, 1918. Severely wounded in the Argonne of- 
fensive, losing his fight arm and receiving other injuries. 

I did not see so very much of the war and it seems 
to me to be somewhat presumptuous to insert in the 
records of our fighting boys, the short and simple story 
of my experience in action. 

However, what I did see of the War was all war. 
It was lively while it lasted, and the memories of those 
few weeks will serve me for a life time. 

Enlisting in Detroit, Michigan, on September 9, 
1917, in the United States Marine Corps, I was sent 
to the splendid camp the Marines had organized at 
Paris Island, S. C. There I was thoroughly trained, 
and when the officers judged me fit for foreign service, 
I was transferred to the overseas training camp at 
Quantico, Virginia. 

Some bird of a training camp, I'd say that was. 
Colonel A. W. Catlin, who had organized it, had done 
a boss job, and the training followed the general lines 
of Marine training with modifications and additions 
made necessary by conditions in France. 

We learned to shoot straight, think quick, and act 
even quicker, to do the right thing under the circum- 
stances of any given case, and do it through instinct. 

We had bayonet exercise that sometimes got pretty 
realistic. 

"Snarl when you use the bayonet !" was the advice 
some English instructors gave us, but it did not fit in 
with the Marine idea, which was to do it with a smile. 
And strange, and almost unholy and unnatural as it 



28 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

may seem, months later, when I did see some of the 
Marines in a hand-to-hand fight with the Huns, they 
were not snarling but smiling as they jabbed the points 
of their bayonets into the most convenient part of their 
opponent's anatomy. A queer sound the bayonet 
makes when it takes the flesh, and queerer still is the 
feel of the gun in your hand when you have the old 
"shiv" in a human body. 

"Mopping up" was another delightful practice in 
which we became singularly adept. It means, as you 
doubtless know, cleaning up the positions you have 
taken from the enemy. It is a bloody business in 
which, you might say, no prisoners are taken. 

The bayonet fighting, the patrol work, and the mop- 
ping up, even more than a gas attack, or shelling, or 
rifle fire, bring out to me the sheer hellishness of war. 

There is something impersonal about most of the 
operations of a military character, but when you come 
to grips; when you tear a man's body open with the 
bayonet, cut his throat with a trench knife, or strangle 
him to death with your hands down in the mud of 
"no man's land," or the filth of a trench bottom, it 
comes right home to you. 

And I am frank to say, I don't like it, though it had 
to be done, and God knows nothing that could be done 
to a German began to be anywhere near like the treat- 
ment he deserved. 

But I ramble, and that is not like a Marine. 

In August, I crossed to France and was landed at 
Brest after a beautiful and uneventful trip. The Navy 
certainly made good when it came to taking us boys 
across safely, and I never see water but I want to give 
three cheers for the "Gobs." 

After landing in France, we went to Chatillon where 
we got our legs under us, looked over our equipment, 
and then hurried up to the front. 

Every Yank in France that had any fight left in 
him was headed for the front at that time. We had 
the Jerries on the run and the spirit of the hunt was 
in us all. We could scarcely sleep of nights for fear 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 29 

they would stop fighting before we had our chance 
at it. 

Well, we got it ! 

In the Argonne forest sector, we went into the 
line to relieve some National Army troops that had 
fought themselves out of food, clothing, ammunition, 
and almost out of touch with the supporting troops on 
their flank. The N. A. boys needed a few hours to 
rest, refit and receive replacements, for they had not 
counted the cost of their advance. 

The dead were still unburied, and as we marched up 
to their front, we passed for miles over the ground 
across which they had advanced. Time and time again, 
I saw the ground brown with their bodies as they had 
fallen in lines, or in clumps, before the fire of German 
machine gun nests. 

Their orders had been to advance at no matter what 
cost, and they had kept the faith. 

So, we came at last into line. 

The woods were heavy about us. The ground was 
incredibly broken, as though some angry god in ancient 
times had harrowed the place with hate. Ravines ran 
in all directions, and this brought out a twisted rock 
formation where ridges crossed and recrossed each 
other, and buttes rose without rhyme or reason in the 
most unexpected places. 

It was, of course, an ideal defensive position. I 
can't see all the Germans in the world driving Ma- 
rines out of such a stronghold. Yet out of it our 
American boys had been chasing German veteran and 
war-wise soldiery. 

Machine gun nests and organized positions were 
scattered broadcast through the forest with the prodi- 
gal hand of the German High Command. In places, 
barb wire was in position and there were also well 
placed and carefully constructed trenches. 

Our guns had difficulty in keeping up with us. Only 
when a command would be definitely hung up for a 
day or so, would the guns get a chance to come up 
and blow the Jerries out. 



30 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

The orders were to advance to a certain objective 
which had been pointed out to us. We were told to 
go ahead and take it, if only two of us got there, and 
when we got there to dig in and hang on regardless. 

Some comprehensive order I'd say it was. 

We drove forward, bombing out the machine gun 
nests, taking advantage of what cover offered, cutting 
and blasting our way through the enemy's wire. 

As we broke through the last of the wire, the Huns 
abandoned their position and fled to cover. It so hap- 
pened I was nearest the crest of the ridge where the 
German line had been, and I tore up the slope at my 
best speed, gun thrown forward eagerly as I tried to 
get another good clean shot at the Jerries. 

The German guns were well trained on the crest, and 
just as we swarmed over it, H. E. shell and shrapnel 
began to burst right among us. 

Suddenly I spun around and fell. For a moment or 
two I was dazed. My Buddie grabbed me and dragged 
me into a little cover, and ripped off my blouse and 
shirt. My right arm was filled with shrapnel and 
shot to pieces from the elbow down. Buddie gave 
me first aid, put my canteen handy, and then with a 
handclasp hurried back to the position where the men 
had stopped for a moment to get their breath, after 
the burst of shelling. 

Presently, as the shelling grew less, and the enemy 
showed himself forming for a counter attack, our 
men sprung forward, cheering as they ran in that 
high pitched, eerie battle cry of the Marines who have 
seen their dead. 

They had overrun a machine gun nest, and when I 
saw the gunners in the nest open up on our men from 
the rear, it brought the life back to me. I began to 
try and get my gun into some kind of a position where 
I could shoot, and while I can shoot from the left 
shoulder, it's some trick to hold and fire a gun with 
one hand and hit anything. 

However, I did create a diversion with my thump- 
ing around, for the German machine gunners gave me 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 31 

their attention. I got a bullet through the left hand, 
and another in the leg. 

The Jerries certainly were great ones for getting a 
man in the leg. 

I talked to a Jerry, who was a prisoner and spoke 
English, about it. 

"We don't like to kill the troops opposing us," said 
he, as he tugged away at his long stemmed pipe. 

"Oh, no, of course," I agreed. "Quite so." 

He caught my sarcasm and went into details. 

"Why should we kill men?" he inquired. "If a man 
is dead, he is dead. That is the end of him. Maybe 
he gets planted, and maybe he don't. If he does, its 
after the fight is over. 

"But a wounded man must be taken care of. He 
uses up men who could be fighting. The more 
wounded the better. So they teach us to shoot at the 
feet instead of the head or body." 

At any rate, there I was. With my right arm full of 
shrapnel and my forearm, from the elbow down, a 
sight. My left hand also, had a bullet through it and 
I had another one in my leg. I had lost a lot of blood. 
It was fifty hours before I had any more attention than 
my Buddie had been able to give me in the heat of the 
fight. Then I received real first aid and was shipped 
back something like sixty miles to a hospital, where I 
underwent three operations, in the last of which they 
took my right arm off at the elbow. 

After that they sent me Home, and in the Brooklyn 
Naval Hospital I had a re-amputation. 

Also I received a regimental citation, though just 
why I do not understand. 

I want to say a word for the relief organizations that 
helped us out "over. there." This is one of the Echoes 
I want you to be sure and hear. 

Listen ! There is nothing too good for the Salvation 
Army ! 

The time was when we used to give them our pen- 
nies. Let me tell you, your dollars aren't half big 
enough for them. They were like the Marines, they 



32 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

went the limit. Right up to the front, the real front, 
the firing line, with coffee and doughnuts. Many a 
time we had to beg those girls to go back. 

If you feel grateful to us, be good to them, for they 
were with us and were our friends when we walked 
in the dark shadows "over there." 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 33 

Soldier s Letter 
CHRISTMAS DAY IN FRANCE 

But say, let me tell you something. Christmas Day 
in France was enough to break your heart. 

The day before Christmas we had marched out to 
our training field as usual. To keep us from thinking 
too much about home, the officers put us through. It 
was twelve miles back to billets and we started the long 
hike. We could not help thinking a bit now and then, 
so our spirits were low. 

Rain and sleet fell; the roads were hock deep in 
cold sticky mud, for each step we took, we lost part 
of the ground gained. 

We were chilled, tired, hungry, footsore, homesick, 
and all at once, that's some grand little combination 
for Christmas Eve, I'll tell you. 

As the night came on, wind blew in long, sharp blasts 
that cut through to the bone, chilling the perspiration 
the hike had started. 

You could have bought us cheap. 

We hit the billets late, too doggone tired and heart 
sick, we thought, to eat. But hot coffee and chow 
lured us at last. Then we just peeled off our rags, 
and packs, and boots, dropped them all over the place, 
and hit the blankets. 

At dawn, some idiot began to shout, "Merry 
Christmas." 

"Merry Hell," we answered and tried for a few 
more winks. 

But it was no use, the comedian persisted. We 
reached for what was nearest. A box barrage of tin 
hats, boots, canteens, and miscellaneous equipment 
silenced the fool. 

Then another broke out with it. 

We decided we'd better end the epidemic right 
there. 

So we played "puss in the corner" with that fellow. 

We hit him a wallop in the puss (face) and he laid 
in the corner for an hour. 




CORPORAL M. J. LAPINE 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 35 

IV. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Corporal Meyer J. Lapine 

Born in Chicago, III., January 7 , 1892. Occupation, chauf- 
feur. Enlisted in United States Marine Cor$s at Chicago on 
May 29, 1917. Trained Paris Island and Quantico, Virginia. 
Assigned Sixth Regiment. Overseas January 15, 1918. 
Wounded three times and gassed. 

On May 29, 1917, I enlisted in the United States 
Marine Corps at Chicago, and was sent to Paris Island, 
South Carolina, for quarantine and preliminary train- 
ing- 

For three months, I was drilled and trained at Paris 
Island until they had made a man of me physically and 
mentally. I had, in the meantime, taken my second 
oath, so when I was passed on to Quantico, the over- 
seas camp, I was about ready for foreign service. 
However, they took a few more licks at me at Quan- 
tico, and then assigned me to the famous Sixth Regi- 
ment, United States Marine Corps. 

Major Holcomb took us over the latter part of Janu- 
ary, this battalion completed the regimental organiza- 
tion of the Sixth. 

Many of the Marines who had preceded us, had 
spent the months in France on police duty, but we were 
more fortunate, for in January, all the Marines were 
relieved from police duty, brigaded together, and sent 
to Bourmont training area to be whipped into shape 
for our place in the line. 

For the first time, we had a chance to get ac- 
quainted with each other and look over our officers, 
and a fine bunch of men I'd say they were. Catlin 
was our Colonel, and I saw him fall, right up with the 
boys at Belleau Wood. 

Lieutenant Colonel Lee was second in command, and 



36 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

took over under fire the day Colonel Catlin was 
wounded. The Majors, too, were all old hands, I 
think, in the Marines. Major John A. Hughes, Major 
Burton William Sibley, and the regimental adjutant 
Major Evans, were men who won our devoted admir- 
ation by their soldierly qualities and personal man- 
hood. 

Nor were the lesser officers much below them in 
standard, though most of them did not really belong 
to the Corps, but had been sent to it to take the places 
vacated by the moving up of the old company and 
platoon commanders when the organization was ex- 
panded. 

Of things such as this, we men talked in bivouack 
and billet, gathering our information as to the past 
history of the Corps and the exploits of its officers 
from the lips of our "noncoms," many of whom had 
been in the Marines from ten to twenty years. 

In the days of our training, when we tramped back 
and forth from billets to training grounds, we of the 
ranks got to know each other well and we knew just 
about what to expect of chaps like Chris Collopy, who 
came from Spring City, Pennsylvania, or Weikal of 
Middletown, Ohio, before ever we saw them put to the 
test of battle. 

During March, we went on the line in the Verdun 
sector. So far as my outfit were concerned, we had 
our first taste of German shell on Easter morning. 
Some eggs, believe me, those Jerries put over to make 
us feel like good Christians on that day. 

We had taken over a quiet sector, but it certainly did 
yield us some good sport. The patrol work was great. 

Don't misunderstand me. I was scared to death 
every time I went out on patrol. The cold sweat would 
pour off me and my whole body would shake with 
chills, but I'd have died before I'd let any one of my 
pals know it. I guess we all had the chills, and fever, 
and sweats together, for we weren't just pigs driven 
to slaughter and used to it like the Hun, but nervous, 
high strung young lads, with all of life before us. Yet 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 37 

we'd rather have been in France just then, than any- 
where else in the world. 

But once you were out in "no man's land," creep- 
ing around in the dark, trying to keep in touch with 
the rest of your own men and not fall over a Hun 
before you saw him, sneaking through the enemy wire 
to listen up against his parapet, you were sitting in on 
a man's game where the sky was the limit. 

The oddest things would come into your head. 
Some thing funny that had happened when you were 
a boy at school, or some remark made by Hi Pottinger 
would come to mind, and you'd see it from a new angle 
and want to laugh, when you didn't hardly dare to 
breathe. 

And when we did catch an enemy patrol out ! Oh, 
boy ! How we flattened out on the ground, and prac- 
ticed every Injun and hunting trick we'd ever heard of, 
as we stalked the foe. For on patrol work, it's a case 
of get your man and get him quick and quiet, or 
they'll have the sky full of star shell, and both sides 
be cutting loose at you 

We sure were in tune with the warring infinite, 
when they relieved us at last, I guess because we were 
making their quiet sector too lively. 

I understand some of the other boys have written 
in their stories for "Echoes from Over There," of the 
fighting along the Marne and at Belleau Wood, and I'm 
going to skip it, for even to this day, it hurts to think 
of the friends who "went west" during the fighting 
there. 

After the Chateau-Thierry sector fighting just re- 
ferred to, the Marines were pulled out of the line for 
some much needed rest and re-equipment, for fighting 
uses up clothing, weapons, food, everything goes in the 
fight. 

La Fere was the name of the place where we counted 
noses and took stock, but the days of resting were 
about over. We had turned the tide at Belleau Wood, 
and it was up to us to push our luck. 

The French were going to try and crash in the side 



38 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

of the bottle the German had made in the French lines 
between two towns every one has heard of, Soissons 
and Rheims. A bottle just described the situation, 
an old fashioned water bottle turned upside down. 
At either side of the bell shaped bottom of the water 
bottle, were Soissons and Rheims, while the mouth 
rested on Chateau-Thierry. And the bottle was full, 
full to the brim with German troops, guns, stores, 
I don't guess they have counted it all yet. 

The French wanted to smash in the side of the bottle 
and get at the contents, and they gave the Marines the 
hammer. To make sure that we would be feeling like 
fighting when we struck the German lines, they packed 
us into camions, and we bumped along in the dust and 
July heat all one night, arid at dawn started to hike and 
kept it up all that day and all the following night. At 
dawn we came into position and the fight began. 

There will be some who will think I exaggerate, 
who will say no troops could fight as we fought after 
being awake for two days and nights and making such 
a march, but if such doubters there be, let them write 
the War Department and ask about this incident of 
the history of the Sixth Marines in France. 

It was a great surprise that attack. The Hun was 
completely fooled when, on the heels of a terrific bar- 
rage, and in the wake of droves of tanks, the Marines 
broke out of the forest of Villers-Cotterets. 

We had no sooner started, than we forgot all about 
being tired, for we had the Hun on the jump. We 
piled his dead in heaps ; we took his machine guns by 
the hundreds, and his field batteries complete, time and 
again. We just had to take prisoners that day ; it 
would have taken too long to kill them all. 

We fought through wilderness thickets ; we stormed 
hills, and with dripping bayonets, slashed our wav 
through villages the Hun had not yet destroyed, and 
was busily engaged in looting. We shot German sol- 
diers gathering the grain in the fields. 

Mile after mile we drove them, and though we 
made rapid progress, there was stark fighting done 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 39 

by the Germans that day. Time after time, I saw 
a squad of our men go at the burst of a shell, or a 
platoon wither under machine gun blast. 

I got it in the leg myself, bad enough to send me 
back to a dressing station, but not to a hospital. I had 
all the hospital I wanted after I had been hit and 
gassed early in the spring, and when our men were 
going in at Belleau Wood, we had to take French 
leave at the hospital to get back to our regiment or 
we'd have missed that dandy brawl. 

After we had cleaned them up at Soissons, they 
pulled us out, and we had a few days of the rest that 
was coming to us, and then we went to the Argonne. 
There I got phosgene chlorine gas and got it good, and 
by the time I had recovered from that, it was all over, 
over there. 



40 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

V. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT. 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Private Winslow Belton Marshall 

Enlisted in United States Marine Corps. Served in France. 

Patriotism, to some people, meant throwing out their 
chests when the band played the "Star Spangled Ban- 
ner," and openly admitting that "the land of the free 
and the home of the brave" could lick anybody on the 
block. 

To me, it didn't mean so much. I just grabbed a 
gun and went over there to express my sentiments in 
bullets. 

Those flag-waving experts may be all right. They 
probably figured that as it was, the recruiting offices 
were overworked, so what was the use of giving them 
more trouble? 

When it comes down to scrapping, believe me, three 
of those dear three-inch shell have three cheers beat 
eighty ways. 

Still, somebody had to stay at home, or there 
wouldn't be anyone to watch the parades, now that 
we've got back from saving Democracy. 

Well, just after we quit speaking to Germany, I 
enlisted in the Marines. I spent my nights studying 
how to tell a third class Ensign from an assistant sten- 
ographer in the Knights of Columbus, and my days 
were spent saluting every door man from Forty-second 
street to Columbus Circle. At first, an ordinary sub- 
way guard looked like an Admiral to me. 

I suppose you know what a Leatherneck is? A 
Leatherneck is a baby they send for when some country 
gets fresh and tries to go Republican. 

We are rushed special delivery to the place to put 
down the revolution. There never is any trouble. The 
revolutionists are buried in lots of a thousand each. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 41 

Once a Marine got wounded. He stumbled over the 
Porto Bananas army on the way back to the ship. 

No doubt by this time, you know how the Leather- 
necks went through those square heads at Belleau 
Wood and points west ; and we would have gone 
through to Berlin, only we didn't want to be all muddy 
marching down "Unter der Linden" with all the fel- 
lows looking on. 

The Kaiser likes the Marines like carbolic acid, 
and the Crown Quince has been yelling for the police 
ever since we went over. 

I always wondered why they called us Leathernecks. 
I found out it was on account of us wearing some of 
the sweaters our loving, but amateur, knitting relatives 
sent us instead of cigarettes. Some of those sweaters 
would make any fellow's neck rough. 

Going across, we were prepared for everything from 
sudden death to losing a button. 

The meals were the best part of the trip. I had six 
meals a day, three down and three up. The boat 
rocked so much that I had to sit on the floor when 
eating. I asked the Doctor what was the cure for sea 
sickness, and he said, "I give up." 

While still on the ship, I joined the Moustache Club 
and the Gimme Association. 

We landed in France on my birthday and were sent 
to a training camp. While on the train, we passed 
some pretty scenery but that's all we did pass. 

When I enlisted in the Marines, the pictures in my 
mind were drawn from the colored posters in front 
of the recruiting offices. I was to see life from the 
deck of a noble battleship and the heaviest work would 
be drilling at a five-inch gun, and smashing a target to 
smithereens across the sea. 

But instead, they put me to work operating an in- 
sane apology for a railroad, and pushing freight cars 
all around a town fifty miles from a sniff of salt 
water. I often wondered what my mother thought 
when I wrote her about this. "Drunk again," most 
likely. Well the Navy went us one better. The Cap- 



42 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

tain mounted forty blue-jackets on mules and called 
them his cavalry. 

Under the able and masterly leadership of our mess 
sergeant, we got food in disguise. The cooks must 
have attended the Camouflage school unbeknown to 
us. The occasional biscuits were further proof of this. 

The sick report went merrily in on the wings of the 
dawn. I guess the cooks thought the medical depart- 
ment needed practice. 

In a small space in the mess shack, they had worked 
wonders. They put in an enormous stock of soldier 
necessities ; everything from carpet tacks to baby ele- 
phants. You could get cigarettes, cigars, chewing gum, 
and candy; all the latest magazines, wall paper, fly- 
paper, ukeleles, bassoons, and kettle drums ; shampoos 
and massage. Also, ladies' and gents' clothing, art, 
needle work, and sporting goods ; umbrellas, rubbers, 
silks and bull dogs. But the main thing, you could get 
something to eat. The way our mess sergeant dished 
up the food, he must have been a pal of Mr. Hoover. 
However, we didn't starve. 

Finally, we took our seventy-two hour dip in the 
trenches. Now that the war is over, I will never re- 
main in the military game, largely on account of con- 
siderations that deter me from becoming an actor, it 
cuts into your evenings so. However, after you get 
used to staying up a night or two at a time, snatching 
a little siesta between times, it certainly is an interest- 
ing game. 

The first two or three days in the trenches, Jerry 
was quite amusing, and indulged in a lot of perfectly 
blind shooting, with 5.9 (five point nines) either to bol- 
ster up his own courage, or in the vague hope of hitting 
something. As we were green and unaccustomed to 
shell fire, we were continually jumping in and out of 
shell holes, when we first heard the whine coming, 
and in every case, at least so far as I was concerned, 
the shell hit many yards away. Soon we became veter- 
ans and could tell from the sound of the shell, whether 
to duck or ignore them. It is astonishing how quickly 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 43 

your ear gets trained. Soon there was very little duck- 
ing. 

We had a lot of healthy curiosity about Jerry's 
whereabouts and habits, and we sure had a chance 
to gratify it and put it to use during frequent patrols. 

Before we got through, we saw quite a bit of action. 
We have hurled bombs that flew back at us so fast that 
we received the impression we had thrown them back- 
ward. We have vibrated at the safe end of a rifle, and 
we have speared Huns on a bayonet run that would 
have discouraged the Ringling Brothers. 

Of course you've heard about gas. Well, we've been 
gassed. We, too, had heard all about it. Incidentally, 
you folks have no idea what the word discomfort 
means till you try on a gas mask or respirator. A gas 
mask is the most unholy punishment that can be meted 
out to anyone. Did you ever try swallowing a hot 
water bottle ? 

Our Captain told us to stay as long as we could. 
Talk about speed. You've read of Joe Loomis winning 
the hundred yards, Dario Resta driving his motor car, 
and Guynemer, battleplaning through the air. Wrong, 
all wrong. The pace I hit when I took off my gas 
mask, would have made Loomis, Resta, and Guynemer, 
tear their hair in pure chagrin. Nothing like it has 
been seen since soldiers began wearing hats. With all 
due modesty, I claim I emerged from that door at a 
speed of fifty miles an hour. Rough stuff, that gas. 

In peace times, if anyone had told me I would ever 
be sitting in a damp German dugout, in the wee sma' 
hours of a chilly morning, playing piquet, while about 
me raged a terrific bombardment, I would have called 
him crazy. 

Believe me, we all were sure glad when peace was 
declared. 

We fished out our little rubber suits and sailed for 
home. We had a peace party on board ship that the 
fellows are still talking about. And you know that 
to get anything to stick in a fellow's bean for more 
than an hour, is an accomplishment in itself. We had 



44 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

some canned music, the old phony was on duty from 
the start, grinding out ragtime, and everybody jazzed. 

Shades of Napoleon, was ever before a picnic known 
to thrive on Bevo and make merry over a bumper 
of root beer? Gee, I never knew we could have such 
a good time and stay sober. 

Well, there's no place like home. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 45 

VI. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Private Frank M. Jacobs 

Born in New York City. Enlisted in the U. S. Marine 
Corps. Fought at Belleau Wood. Was wounded near Sois- 
sons. Received the Croix de Guerre. 

His Own Story 

We arrived in St. Nazaire, June 27th, and spent two 
months near the Swiss border. Our training consisted 
of endless days of long, muddy, dreary hikes, and bayo- 
net exercise that, though not a pleasure, put us in 
great condition, enabling us to withstand the hardships 
of the trenches. 

After leaving the training area, we were sent for 
preliminary training to the front line trenches of the 
Verdun sector. Although the enemy was in action in 
front of us, for a month and a half, nothing of any 
importance occurred, outside of constant shell fire. It 
seemed that in that particular sector, the Boches were 
in training in the trenches directly opposite. It was a 
case of "You let me alone, and I'll let you alone." The 
French apparently had adopted this agreement. 

However, we had a little combatting, not with any 
human enemy, but with the rats that gave us an aw- 
ful lot of trouble. Our delight was to watch for 
them to come out of their holes and then shoot them 
with our automatics. The cooties were right on the 
job, too. Then it rained nearly every day till some- 
times the mud in the trenches was a foot and a half 
deep. But we got used to even that after a while and 
the fellows seemed to make a joke of it as they did of 
all their discomfort. 

We were actually half contented there, when the 
first of May, word reached us that a series of offensives 



46 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 



were being carried out by the Germans. The news 
that we were going into actual combat was welcome. 

On the 18th of May, a French battalion that had 
seen some terriffic fighting on the Somme front relieved 
us. They took our places so that we could take over 
the sector where fresh troops were needed. 

Leaving the Verdun sector, we had a two-day hike 
with very little to eat. When we reached the outskirts 
of Paris, we were given another two weeks of hard 
drilling and bayonet work. By this time, we were 
becoming very expert at handling the gun and bayonet 
and this added to our eagerness to meet the enemy. 

In the little town where we were quartered, we were 
apparently the entire population. Billeted in this vill- 
age a long ways from the front, we began to fear we 
would never see any real action. To our delight, one 
night after taps had blown and we were sleeping peace- 
fully, orders came that we were to pack up and be 
ready to leave within a half an hour. 

Exactly thirty minutes later we were on our way to 
a train of camions that awaited us. We were simply 
piled into these camions, driven by Chinks. For two 
days and three nights we rode. 

We were joyous to be on our way to the front, but 
the steady stream of French refugees we passed sad- 
dened us. Of all the pathetic scenes I ever witnessed, 
the scenes I saw on this trip to the front were the most 
pitiful. We were maddened by the sight of these old 
men, women and children, hurrying to the rear with 
whatever household goods they could scrape together 
and pack into their carts, pulled by oxen. Our hearts 
ached for these gentle old French folk, driven from 
their homes by the Boche. Hatred for the Hun in- 
creased with every mile, till we could hardly wait for 
a chance to strike our blow at him. 

During these two days and three nights, we actu- 
ally had no food or water as our orders to depart 
for the front had come so unexpectedly. But before 
the actual proofs of the Huns' inhumanity and brutal- 
ity we forgot our aching stomachs and parched throats. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 47 

On the 1st of June, we arrived at the front and 
camped three days in dugouts built under cover of the 
darkness. Then to our great excitement, we were or- 
dered to march four kilometers to relieve the French 
forces that were so bravely holding their own against 
the terrific German onslaught. The Frenchmen, hav- 
ing fought several days and nights without a let up, 
were sure happy to see us, while we were glad of the 
opportunity to take their place. 

For two days we were on the defensive, resisting 
heavy artillery and machine gun fire from the enemy. 

At five o'clock, on the fifth of June, without any 
forewarning, we were ordered to go over the top in five 
minutes. Our starting point was five hundred yards 
in front of Belleau Wood. Jumping from our holes, 
we snapped into skirmish formation. The Germans 
at sight of us opened up deadly machine gun fire. The 
rattling of their guns could not stop us, though we 
lost many men at the start. Crossing the wheat fields 
we lost more than half of our men. Far from discour- 
aging us, this merely added fury to our eagerness to 
repay the Hun. The Germans were obviously non- 
plussed by our daring spirit and the way we faced 
their fire. It seemed to shatter their morale. They 
began to flee. But we could run as fast as they, so 
within four hours, we had killed and captured about 
five hundred Boche in the first two kilometer advance. 

With darkness came a lull, giving us a chance to dig 
ourselves in for the night, though there was sniping 
and some artillery fire constantly. A clean-cut victory 
for our first attempt heartened us greatly. We had no 
more fear of the terrible Hun, already we knew him 
for a coward. Even during our first attack, the whin- 
ing of that word, "Kamerad," became so common that 
we felt like veterans. In most cases, these pitiful 
pleas to be spared were of no avail, for we had been 
warned that while moaning "Kamerad," the Boche 
would not hesitate to attack us if he could. So we 
were very watchful that they shouldn't get away with 
any tricky stuff. 



48 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

As I, fortunately, was not wounded in the first at- 
tack, I did not know of the happenings in the rear. But 
what we heard later was very gratifying. They say 
when they heard of our victory, the French went wild 
with joy, for this was the first time the Germans had 
been driven back on the direct road to Paris. We were 
mighty proud to have the honor of being the first 
troops to start the offensive. It looks as if that marked 
the turning point of the war. 

After another sleepless night and day, we were sent 
five kilometers to the rear. Here we had our first 
real meal in more than a week, and believe me, we 
certainly appreciated it. While resting the next two 
days, we learned the Battalion that had relieved us 
had taken up the attack successfully where we had left 
it, and had gained their objective. We knew then, that 
there was no possible chance for the Hun to advance 
again. 

After our two days' rest, we were again sent to the 
front, this time in a line of trenches before the town 
of Bouresches, which had been taken from the Boche 
a week before. During our five days' stay in Boures- 
ches we were peppered with more shell fire than I 
had heard during my entire experience at the front. 
The Germans seemed to take special delight in destroy- 
ing houses in the village, burning them up, one by 
one, but they could not drive us out. 

After shelling us terrifically for several days, think- 
ing that we must have evacuated, the Boche attacked 
the town one night and discovered to their great sur- 
prise that we were still very much there. We handed 
them one of the biggest surprises and set-backs of their 
lives. We peppered them so hard with machine gun 
fire that they never got anywhere near us. Instead 
of finishing their attack, they turned and fled like a lot 
of crazy sheep. While they were retreating, we joy- 
fully picked them off and they sure were soft pickings. 

We had several scare attacks during our five days 
in this town. But the Huns, seeing we intended to 
stay, began to lose heart. It was a common sight to 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 49 

see them, under cover of darkness, straggling into the 
American lines, giving themselves up. 

So far, I had been fortunate enough to come through 
unscratched. I saw many of our old men go and new 
ones take their places. For each fine fellow we lost, 
we made the Boche pay toll, I promise you. The very 
thought of bayoneting a Hun became a pleasure, and 
to a great extent we forgot our hardships. 

Relieved again, we went back for a three days' rest 
and were then sent to another sector to relieve troops 
that had there been successful in their attacks. 

We held the lines a few days, living in the woods 
under horrible conditions, with unburied dead lying 
all about us. We lived in holes dug with our hands 
or any implements we could find. The nights were 
very quiet, but whenever we had a chance to get a little 
sleep, those dreaded cooties, nearly as vicious as the 
Boche, pestered us till sleep was almost impossible. 

Strange to say, while in the line on the defensive, 
or while making ready to attack, war was seldom dis- 
cussed among the fellows. Instead we are thinking of 
the dear old U. S. A. and the folks at home. An 
American newspaper whenever picked up, would be 
read so eagerly that by the time it had passed through 
several hundred hands, it would literally hang in 
threads. These trying periods of waiting were when 
we most delighted in getting news from home, or even 
just talking to each other of what was going on, back 
in the States. With the Boche twenty-five yards away, 
the boys would go about humming popular songs. 

On the 25th of June, we were ordered to attack 
our objective, which was on the edge of Belleau Wood, 
east of the position still held by the enemy. In the 
face of murderous machine gun fire we advanced with- 
out a stop. The Germans could not understand our 
earnestness and willingness to face anything they had. 

When within a few yards of them, about to face 
them with a bayonet, we had a way of yelling like a 
bunch of wild Indians that scared the Boche half to 
death. They would become so perplexed that often we 



50 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

found them waiting for us with their hands up whin- 
ing, "Kamerad." We shot down the majority, for we 
knew if we gave them a chance they would pump us 
full of machine gun bullets. When we came close to 
them, they would jump out of their holes and attempt 
to be friendly. We took a few prisoners for the pur- 
pose of getting information from them. 

In this attack, a clump of woods on our left had 
been overlooked by us. It was full of Huns, manning 
machine guns. As they were on our left flank, they 
were a terrible menace to us. In gaining our objec- 
tive, we lost pretty heavily, and most of the men who 
were fortunate enough to escape alive were wounded, 
or utterly exhausted, and nearly dead from hunger and 
thirst. 

A volunteer party was asked to clear out the woods. 
Death seemed certain for those attempting this deed, 
but despite that fact and all they had already suffered, 
there were more volunteers than were needed, ready 
and glad to make the supreme sacrifice to make our 
left flank safe. 

I was fortunate to be numbered among the twelve 
who attempted the clearing of the wood. We carried 
out the orders successfully, but we lost seven out of 
twelve men. But we realized we could not complain, 
for ordinarily, in an attack of this kind, a platoon 
would have been necessary to accomplish what we did. 

The French gratefully rewarded the boys who vol- 
unteered with the Croix de Guerre. 

In that attack, we had captured upward of six hun- 
dred men and numbers of machine guns. When dark- 
ness had come and the firing ceased, a few men 
were detached to accompany the prisoners to the rear. 
I was put in charge of two hundred prisoners, some 
of our wounded, and some German wounded. 

We had almost a two mile stretch through the woods 
in total darkness. While marching, we were continu- 
ally shelled by the Hun artillery who thought we were 
support coming up. The prisoners on the way to the 
rear had more than one chance to escape if they had 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 51 

wished to, for the shelling we received was so terrific 
that the men carrying the wounded had to seek shelter 
in holes and behind trees. We could not have pre- 
vented the prisoners from scattering, the woods were 
so dark, but instead of attempting escape, they volun- 
tarily jumped into formation again as soon as the firing 
ceased, and continued to march to the rear. All the 
time they were praying in German, thanking God 
that they were through with the war. 

Finally, we arrived at the rear with our charges 
and were greatly relieved to get rid of them. Also, 
we had our first few hours' sleep in three or four days. 
When we started back again, we were given food to 
take to the men in the front lines. To carry anything 
seemed a great effort after the strenuous work of the 
last few days. We were utterly worn out, and I do 
not believe we would ever have reached the lines had 
it not been food we were carrying. But we braced 
up and went through, for we knew how desperately 
the boys needed that food. On the way, we were 
steadily shelled by the enemy, several times we had to 
drop the food in the dirty sand and lie prone on the 
ground till the shelling had ceased. By a fairly super- 
human effort, we reached the lines and then what we 
brought lasted only a few minutes after it had been 
equally distributed among the boys. It was the first 
bit of food they had had in two days. 

Searching the German dugouts, we found quite a 
quantity of food the Germans had been unable to take 
away with them. Evidently the men we had driven 
out had been placed there only a few hours before we 
attacked and had been supplied with several days' 
rations. The brown bread and sour meat tasted mighty 
good to us. In several instances the men emptied the 
water out of machine guns to drink. 

We held our ground until the following night, when 
we were relieved by new troops and very thankful 
we were to see them. 

We marched to a safe distance in the rear, built our 
own dugouts and settled down for several days. There 



52 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

we received our three meals a day, praise be, and an 
abundance of fruit, chocolate and cigars that the Red 
Cross provided. We sure were a happy crowd. 

About the first of July, we were honored by a visit 
from the former Premier of France, who told us that 
the name of the woods we had captured had been 
changed from Bois de Belleau to Bois de la Brigade de 
Marine, in our honor. 

We were also honored by a visit from our Brigade 
Commander, who commended us for our good work. 

July 1st we were ordered to Paris to march in the 
parade on the fourth. Of course, we were silly with 
delight. 

We reached Paris on the Fourth and marched in the 
parade through the streets. The French people show- 
ered us with congratulations, they seemed wild with 
joy and called us "Saviors of Paris." 

After the parade the town was completely ours. 

Wonderful while it lasted ! But the following day 
we were told to stand ready to return to the front. 
We were pretty blue. To go back to the trenches from 
a city like Paris seemed about the worst thing that 
could happen to us. We were downhearted but we 
went back, to finish our job. 

When we arrived, we played a defensive game a few 
days and then were again sent to the rear in a little 
town on the Marne to rest for ten days. The town 
in which we were billeted had been evacuated by the 
French and their homes were plentifully supplied with 
vegetables and good things to eat. 

When the ten days were up, we were loaded into 
camions and rode for a day and a night toward Sois- 
sons. 

Up to this time, impossible as it seems, I had escaped 
the slightest injury and was congratulating myself 
on my luck. 

The night of the 19th, a high explosive shell hit 
within two feet of me, and put me out of business. I 
hated to leave the field, now that the going was easy, 
but I had to give in. Remembering all I had gone 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 53 

through, I comforted myself with the thought of all 
the good treatment I would get in the rear. I was 
fortunate that I was not blown to smithereens as I 
was being carried off the field for the enemy showered 
us with high explosives. 

Finally, I reached the dressing station, where I was 
given first aid. After a couple of hours, a dozen or 
more wounded fellows were put into a truck and we 
began a five mile ride to the hospital. The roads were 
torn all to pieces and the trip reached a climax of 
pure agony. 

At the evacuation hospital, I was immediately op- 
erated on, and when I awoke I was lying in a clean, 
white bed. It seemed like Heaven, and the other 
wounded boys shared my feelings. 

On a hospital train I was shipped to Base Numbei 
1 and the wonderful treatment I received there more 
than repaid any sacrifice I may have made. My re- 
covery was so rapid that they sent me on to Base Num- 
ber 31 at Nantes. During my two weeks there, I was 
honored by a cot visit from General Pershing and sev- 
eral prominent Frenchmen, who were inspecting the 
place. 

From there I went to Savenay for two days, and 
then at last to Brest and believe me, I'd had my fill of 
riding on hospital trains. 

The Northern Pacific brought me home and how we 
cheered when we got our first glimpse of the Statue 
of Liberty again. 

"And I'd do it all over again." 



54 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

VII. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES. 

Private Wayne W. French 

Enlisted in United States Marine Corps, May, 1917. As- 
signed to the Headquarters Company, Trench Mortar platoon, 
Fifth Regiment. In France June, 1917. Wounded at Belle au 
Wood. Ten months in hospitals in France and America. 

His Own Story 

As I go back in my mind over my experiences in 
France, I can see very clearly now the wisdom of the 
severe training they give the Marines, and the care 
with which they pick out their recruits. 

You must know that during those first weeks of the 
War, we lads from all over the country poured in on 
the recruiting stations of the Marine Corps and they 
had a big assortment to pick and choose from. 

A chum of mine who went with me to enlist, was 
turned down for what seemed to me the most trifling 
physical defect. I was "sore" over it at the time, but 
I know now the Marines were right to be so careful. 

And in telling my story, I am going to say more 
than perhaps you would have me say about our train- 
ing over here. For that, to me, is the important part 
of it. You know we made good in France, but you 
must not be allowed to get the idea that it was simply 
because we were Americans. It was not due to that. 
It was because we were fit. Fit to live, to fight, or 
die. Fit to succeed in anything we had undertaken, 
either of a civil or a military nature. 

The regular Marine course of training with the 
country on a peace footing, is fourteen weeks. This 
commences when the recruit takes his preliminary oath 
and goes into quarantine. When quarantine is passed, 
and another thorough physical examination undergone, 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 55 

the second and full oath of allegiance is tendered, and 
when taken by the man he becomes, so far as the books 
go, a Marine. 

In the meantime, he has been acquiring from the at- 
mosphere of the camp and the bearing of the Marines 
about him, something of the Marine spirit so when he 
takes his place finally as one of a squad of eight, he 
is well on the way toward becoming a soldier of the 
sea. 

The drill is intense but very intelligent. One learns 
constantly the reason why of everything he is required 
to do. There is a constant appeal to the recruit's 
mind. Along with the drill, goes the "setting up" ex- 
ercises that seem enough to break a man in pieces at 
first, but after about three weeks have him in the pink 
of physical condition. 

They teach us, too, the importance of cleanliness and 
order in a life to be lived among numbers of other 
men and often in close quarters. Neatness, exactness, 
endurance, become ingrained habits. 

The rifle range comes in for attention, and no mat- 
ter how well a man may have shaped up to that mo- 
ment, if he cannot shoot straight or be taught the art 
of accurate shooting, he is dropped from the Corps. 

Then there are many other things we have to learn. 
Signaling, map making, telegraphy, how to assemble, 
dis-assemble, and use all sorts of arms. 

When I tell you that under the pressure of the open- 
ing of the War for this country, they put us through 
this course in from six to eight weeks and then sent 
us over seas, as samples of the kind of fighting men 
America would contribute to the cause of Democracy, 
you can get a line on the manner of men that made up 
the United States Marine Corps. 

It was what that training did for me that has made 
me an advocate of universal training ever since. If 
we could fight as we did after a few weeks of it, what 
do you suppose we could have done in business? But 
that's another story. The American Legion can settle 
that business once it gets in step with the G. A. R. 



56 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

In May, then, I enlisted in the Marines, and the lat- 
ter part of June I tramped down the gang plank of a 
transport as a member of the American Expeditionary 
Force, comprised of detachments of the Fifth Regi- 
ment, U. S. M. C. 

Some of the men remained on duty where we 
landed, but the larger part of us were spread all over 
France on Provost Guard duty. There we stuck at 
that hateful job while men who had come into the 
army and the corps after us began to see service. 

But they gathered us together after a time, and we 
began to train all over again in a training area near 
Verdun. We men of the Fifth Marines were billeted 
in four French villages, and they sent us French troops 
and some bully French officers for instructors as to the 
particular devilishness of the Huns. 

Our training fields were miles away from our bil- 
lets and every day, be the weather fair or foul, we 
shouldered our packs and hiked it out and back. 

Sixteen miles a day under baggage is no joke when 
you, have spent the hours in between times digging 
trenches, drilling with the bayonet, stringing wire, 
and doing the hundreds of other things we were called 
upon to do. 

There wasn't much singing when we turned our 
faces toward the billets, perhaps in the face of a driv- 
ing snow storm or through rain that fell in sheets. But 
those were the times when you found the temper of 
the men in your outfit, when the helping hand of your 
Buddie came like a burst of sunshine. 

The officers too were bricks. They knew their end 
of the game. 

I'll tell you something, when your lieutenant takes 
your pack for you, to give you a chance to get your 
second breath of grit so you can bear the pain of your 
blistered feet and not lose your place in the line, he 
does something you don't forget when you see him go 
down under fire. 

Still our health was good and that helped. The 
chow was fine. And through it all there ran a reso- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 57 

lute thread of purpose whose reward we read in Black 
Jack Pershing's face the day of our review. 

March 15th, we went up to the line, and when we 
were leaving the train at a little station where we de- 
trained back of the line, the first German shell reached 
us. We lost no men, but we heard, for the first time, 
the scream of hate the devilish things give off and 
the crash of the explosion, as though the world had 
blown up. The band lost some instruments. That 
seemed a calamity at the time, but we marched to dif- 
ferent music so soon that now what then was tragic, 
only evokes a smile. 

When once we were in the trenches and from our 
"combat groups" looked out over "no man's land" at 
the ruins of villages and farm houses, saw the fields 
pitted with craters, burned bare from shell fire and 
poisoned by gas, we began to realize something of 
the hell of war. 

They don't give you much time to think or brood. 
Something is always happening. And the patrol 
work at night keyed us up. We began to lose men, 
too, from the enemy's fire and in our encounters, 
and, for every life the Hun took from us, you can 
write it down we made him pay a heavy toll. 

The patrol work came naturally to us. When it 
comes to skull dugging around in the brush with a 
gun, pot shotting, the Yank has it on the world. I'd 
say he has. 

The Huns began to hug their own trenches closely, 
but their officers must have made up their minds it 
would not do to let us get away with it. So they 
put on a raid. 

Our patrols were out, of course, as usual, and on 
the night of which I write, I was one of a patrol of 
about thirty men. We ran jam right into the Huns, 
and there was a wild mix-up for a while. We had it 
out with musket butt, bayonet, and fist. They out- 
numbered us at least three to one, but we rolled them 
up, drove them back, and then beat it for our own 
trenches before they could get their barrage on us. 



58 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Those things used to scare me the next day. Many 
a time when I had dropped over the trench to safety, 
I found myself so weak with reaction from the nervous 
strain I could scarcely stand, while my stomach felt 
as it did on the way over. 

About the middle of May, we were relieved and 
went into billets in the vicinity of Bar-le-duc, where 
we took up our drilling again, and had a chance to 
get cleaned up and hunt the cooties we had accumu- 
lated in the vermin infested trenches. 

About this time, too, we began to hear stories of 
disaster to the British in Picardy and Flanders. The 
air seemed tense with German suggestion. 

The countryside was abloom with all the beauty of 
France in the spring, and through fields green with 
young crops, and forests filled with flowers, we began 
to move toward the British front. The faces of the 
people in the French villages wore a brooding cloud, 
as though they, too, felt the German menace. 

The spirit of France and Britain lagged ; and while 
we brought them some comfort, they could not believe 
that this handful of Americans with boyish faces could 
achieve the impossible. 

Little did we suspect the role for which Fate had 
cast us. 

The afternoon of May 30th, brought us orders to 
take camions for a destination unknown. But the cam- 
ions did not come. We made camp in the fields, eating 
our emergency rations, and sleeping on our ponchos 
wrapped in our blankets. It seemed as though we had 
but touched the ground before reveille sounded and the 
camions were on hand, driven by haggard, hollow-eyed 
Chinks who had forgotten what the word sleep meant. 

It was a long ride and a hard one. We passed to the 
north of Paris, and little did I think then that in a 
few weeks I would be coming back over the same 
road, wounded and out of it all. 

The road ran by a cemetery. 

"Here's a quiet sector," some one shouted with a 
laugh, "let's take over here." 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 59 

And we gathered flowers as opportunity offered, 
decking our tin hats and uniforms. Thus the first of 
those stricken refugees saw us, smiling, laughing, sing- 
ing, trimmed as for a carnival, as we rolled forward 
toward the Great Adventure. 

If we did not wear our hearts on our sleeves, never- 
theless the sight of those old men and women, the 
little children, fleeing before the Hun, left its impres- 
sion upon us. We thought of America away across 
the seas, with her fields, and homes, and people in 
peace and security, and we were mighty glad, I tell you, 
that we could do our fighting for you, so many miles 
away. 

It is difficult for me to untangle the twisted memories 
of the days and hours that followed. We seemed to 
ride into a madness which grew and grew. 

The camions landed us in the wrong place Orders 
were changed from hour to hour. We had to march 
all the next forenoon, after only two hours' rest and 
with little to eat. Kitchens were lost, the band was 
lost. Headquarters was lost, and we were lost, but 
at least we marched, after the fashion of the Marines 
when in doubt, toward the sound of the enemy's guns. 

In Montreuil aux Lions, we halted for chow. There 
was a lot of stuff the French had abandoned in their 
flight, and it helped out the emergency rations, and 
with full stomachs we sure had a heart for any fate. 

The French troops began to pass us. The broken 
fragments of a defeated army. Hopeless fugitives. 
Dazed, incoherent. 

We slept that night close behind the French lines 
with batteries of French 155's splitting their throats all 
night close by. But nothing could keep us awake. 

In the morning, we began to strip for the fight and 
take on ammunition. The French and some colonial 
troops of theirs were reeling before the constant pres- 
sure of the German columns, the world was filled with 
the roar of guns. 

We were breasting the high tide of German victory. 
The eager breath of the Hun panted in our faces yet 



60 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

still we laughed and swore, rolled our own, and edged 
along up into the line, touching shoulders with the 
Sixth Marines on the right, and on the left, with the 
French, in whom, for the moment, we had little con- 
fidence, for they were badly shaken. But over beyond 
the French was the 23rd Regulars, and we knew we 
could count on it. if a break came. 

In front of the position where I had dug my own 
fox hole, were some hay stacks. The Germans tried 
to creep up and fire them for a smoke screen. We 
were bound to prevent it. A lively and almost good 
natured scrimmage began, but it was in dead earnest. 
We drove them back, keeping the ground before us 
clear and open. When they came, they would have to 
come in the face of the fire of hundreds of sharpshoot- 
ers, trained to a hair, who had lived all their lives for 
that one moment and thought of no other. 

Some of our engineers came up and helped get our 
position into more tenable condition. The Hun fiddled 
around, seemingly unable to realize that we boys had 
come to stay. 

News began to come to us. We heard of the great 
fight of our machine gunners at Chateau-Thierry. 

Our officers slipped along exchanging a few words 
with us, telling us what they knew of the situation, 
of the danger to Paris and the Allied armies. They 
made us understand that we held the line for the world. 
They did not need to tell us that we were to hold 
the line. We knew it. We knew what we were there 
for. 

It was the great moment of the Marines ! 

I am not going to write of the fight. You know it 
by heart. It was the things that were behind us of 
which I have written, that made it possible. To me, 
they are more important than the fight. 

I am reminded that this is supposed to be my story. 
Well, I was wounded by a H. E. shell while coming 
out of Belleau Wood. The same shell killed my best 
friend, within reach of my hand. It turned, in a sec- 
ond, that joyous chap into an object so loathsome to 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 61 

see, that at nights still I awake in a cold sweat of 
horror from my dreams. But he did not suffer. 

For ten months, I have been in the hospitals in 
France and America and I'll tell you this, I am mighty 
glad we kept it all over there. 




PRIVATE FRANK J. VANDERHOVEN 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 63 

VIII. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT. 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Private Frank J. Vanderhoven 

Born in Passaic, N. J., Dec. 23, 1897. Enlisted at Paterson, 
N. J., March 31, 1915, in United States Marine Corps. Served 
in Haiti and Santo Domingo. Overseas June 26, 1917,, with 
5th regiment of Marines. Verdun, Chateau-Thierry, Belleau 
Wood, Soissons, and Champagne. Probably first Neiv Jersey 
soldier ivounded in the War. 

His Own Story 

I enlisted in the Marine Corps in time of peace, be- 
fore we had the company and regimental organization. 
Then, when trouble broke out, it was the custom to 
grab up a handful of Marines and send them off to 
frown on the disturbers of international peace. 

We saw some lively service in the Island Republics, 
and certainly learned to like those countries. We were 
back in the United States for Christmas in 1916. 

It was my good fortune to be made a part of the 
first outfit the Marines sent to France, and I arrived 
there in June, 1917. Some of the men were detailed 
for provost guard duty, but again I was fortunate and 
went with the single detachment that took up train- 
ing at once. 

I can't go into all that now, more than to mention 
that we were sent to the trenches on the Verdun front 
in March, 1918, and, while there, I was one of fifteen 
of our men who, from our "combat posts," met a heavy 
German attack upon our lines and repelled the same, 
for which the French Government awarded us the 
Croix de Guerre. 

Our next big rumpus was in the Chateau-Thierry 
sector. There, in June, we taught the whole world 
the value of infantry that knows how to shoot. 

When the Boche attacked our lines, with his closed 



64 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

up ranks, in wave upon wave, in the full confidence 
of victory, it was not our few machine guns that piled 
him up, but the deadly accuracy of our Marine sharp- 
shooters and marksmen who, crouching in their fox 
holes, picked their men and killed them, one after an- 
other, with the cool, deliberate shooting they had been 
trained in and schooled in on the ranges. We wasted 
few cartridges that day. 

In fact, I want to say that I have never yet heard of 
the Marines really running out of ammunition. The 
enemy is always shot to pieces before that stage of the 
game. 

At this time, we had great help from the Engineers, 
I believe the 2nd Regiment, who not only helped us 
dig but helped us fight, and believe me, those bucks are 
some keen eyed shots and handy with a gun. 

But the really exciting experiences I had in France 
were not when I was in action, so to speak, that is on 
the battle line, but on special details. 

While we were near Lucy le Bocage, I was detailed 
to go after chow. The kitchens were kept back in the 
reserve where they were supposed to be safe from the 
German guns. The chow detail consisted of about 
fifty men, and we had to bring up the grub for at least 
a thousand of the hungriest men you ever saw. 

If the kitchens were safe, the going and coming to 
them was darned unhealthy. On our way back, a Hun 
flier got a peep at us and we very promptly were 
treated to a heavy shelling with mustard gas shell, 
just about the cussedest thing in the military line there 
is. 

We dropped the chow, took what cover was avail- 
able, and waited for darkness to make it possible to 
go ahead. 

Presently, the Hun let up on us, so gathering up 
our assorted chow, we started on and reached our line 
to find that in our absence, the men had come in for 
a heavy shelling with H. E. and shrapnel and had suf- 
fered many casualties. 

There were the hungry to be fed and the wounded 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 65 

to be cared for, while several fellows had gone raving 
mad. Somehow or other, we got the men fed, the 
wounded on the way back to the rear, and the poor dev- 
ils who had gone crazy passed on to those who would 
get them away from the row as quickly as possible. 

That night sticks out in my memory beyond all 
others. The feeling and fumbling around in the dark ; 
the sour sweaty bodies of the men; the strong reek 
from the exploded shell and the taint of the food gone 
cold and messy. All these things assailed me, and even 
to this day when I get in a crowd, I feel sick and ner- 
vous and live through it all again. 

Along toward dawn, the Hun shelled us again for a 
short interval. One H. E. burst fairly among a group 
of the men, killing several and messing the others up, 
and another man went crazy. A sergeant he was ; he 
grabbed up his gun and began prowling around ; we 
were trying to catch him and disarm him, but he 
kept us away with the play of his gun till a Yale lad, 
who had played on the football team, made a quick 
dive tackle and brought him down. 

I tell you, people, it's mighty tough to see your 
friends killed about you, but it sure does make you 
sick all over to see a fine, big chap driven crazy. 

But we had our fun, too. It wasn't all misery and 
tragedy. 

There was once when we moved camp, that we fell 
heir to an assorted bunch of live stock. Some ancient 
cows that could, however, be induced to give a little 
milk; some hens that laid real eggs while they lived, 
though their span of life was about that of a dis- 
patch rider. You know they figured out a dispatch 
rider lived about twelve minutes. 

Where we were at the time, they allowed us to 
build fires. Presently, some one proposed that we kill 
the cows, on the principle that a steak between the ribs 
was worth a dozen drops of milk in a cup of coffee. 

We didn't have a butcher in the command. They all 
seem to be Germans any way. By the tirne we had our 
beef slaughtered and dressed, the place looked like a 



66 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

shambles and the men as though they had been "mop- 
ping up" Jerries. 

Such cuts of beef no man has seen, I guess, since 
cave man days. But I'll say it tasted good and felt 
better, for all the job was not done in the best of style. 

We saw quite a lot of the 26th division. The 
Yankees, they call themselves. 1 hey didn't kndw 
much about the fine points of soldiering that cut the 
hard corners and save a lot of lives, but they were 
game, and nothing but death ever stopped them. They 
saw plenty of that. 

When they got going after an objective they forgot 
all about cover, and extended order, so they would 
be bunched together, and then the Hun machine gun- 
ers would give it to them. But those boys never 
stopped; a few of them would manage to get to 
the objective, and then you'd see about four times 
their number of Huns coming back on the run. 

I think I am entitled to figure in history as the first 
New Jersey boy wounded after America went into 
the War. 

In March, 1918, I was gassed, and then again in the 
Chateau-Thierry sector I was wounded in the right 
side and sent to the hospital for a while. 

I'm living now in Paterson, and Jersey sure does 
look good to me. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 67 



Soldier s Letter 

"Had an unexpected fight the other evening. Just 
before sunset, our company had fought its way into a 
small woods. There was some decent water there, and 
every one was was tired and hungry. On either flank, 
the rest of the battalion was coming into line with the 
front as we had established it. From the edge of the 
wood ran an irregular piece of broken country, with 
many small shrubs and clumps of bushes. The ground 
rose slightly. The Huns were dug-in about a hundred 
yards away on the rising ground. 

"The Colonel had come up and was snooping along 
the edge of our line looking the ground over with an 
I. O. Suddenly some batteries farther back, in re- 
sponse to signals from the German trench, began to 
shell us. A few stray shots. Ranging. I heard the 
Colonel swear and bark an order. The officers began 
flying around. 

"The men were all alert before any orders were 
given. Into the open stepped the Colonel. He stopped 
with his back to the Hun trench and spoke to us : 

11 'Step out men and give it to them. They're asking 
for it' 

"I was the fifth man out. The whole outfit pounded 
along. We had that trench before the Hun really 
woke up. Only two casualties and they weren't hos- 
pital cases." 



CORPORAL PAUL BONNER 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 69 

IX. 

THE FIRST TO FIGHT 

THE STORIES OF THE MARINES 

Paul Bonner 

Born and still lives in New York. Enlisted in Marines. 
Overseas with 5th regiment. Brought out Captain Blanch- 
field under heavy fire. 

His Own Story 

The men who could tell the best stories of this war 
are dead, for they could tell of the supreme act of 
the war, the passing out. We who live, however, can 
tell many things, and I confess I am rather anxious to 
write a small part of my story because I want it on 
paper before its depth is lessened by civil life. The 
greatest action I participated in was the fight in Bel- 
leau Wood, and I am going to write of that. Not 
of the battle from the broad viewpoint of the General 
who commanded, but from the viewpoint of the pri- 
vate soldier who took his orders and carried out his 
oath of enlistment to the last. 

My first recollection of what happened, is that I 
was riding in an auto truck, tired, and kept from 
sleeping only by the jarring of the car. For two days, 
we went over a road of swirling dust, and at night we 
were dumped in a field. A night of fitful sleeping, or 
rather three hours of fitful sleeping, interrupted by a 
lone German who came over to bomb us, and we were 
on our way in the morning. 

We walked, half asleep, and just doggedly going 
on until suddenly we came on soldiers running to the 
rear, retreating. They were Africans and French sol- 
diers and they shouted to us that the Germans were 
coming on. We suddenly became alert. We heard 
officers shouting to us to keep right on going. We ran 
up a road toward a hill and as we reached the top, I 



70 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

saw my commanding officer, Captain John Blanchfield, 
standing at the side of the road. 

"The devils are coming on," he shouted. "You have 
been waiting for them for a year; now go get them." 

He was shouting in his Irish brogue and his blood 
was up. He thrilled every one of us. We ran across 
a wheat field and dropped in it. We lay there and 
watched our shrapnel shells breaking far ahead. By 
the approach of our own breaking shell, we gauged 
the advance of the enemy and, sure enough, when the 
shell were breaking about a thousand yards away, we 
spotted the figures of the enemy marching on in single 
columns. Now and then a shell would get one of 
them, but the rest kept coming. 

We all looked to see that our rifles were loaded. 
From somewhere along the road we got the command 
to fire. Sharpshooters only, I thought I heard them 
say, but everybody fired. Those Germans just melted 
away. Whole columns went down and the others 
scattered to the right and the left. They were utterly 
stunned and surprised, and there was not an answering 
shot. 

All night we waited but not a shot was fired. At 
dawn, however, their artillery came up and out of the 
sky their shell began to tumble. When a man was 
wounded someone would call, "Hospital man." A Red 
Cross man would rush out to carry away the fallen 
one and another soldier would take his comrade's 
place. All day and night we stayed there and many 
times the line was refilled, but a few of us lived 
through. 

Sometime the next day, and mind you, we had not 
had water or food all this time, we got an order to go 
ahead. Blanchfield led the column down the Torcy 
road. We did not know Germans were there. They 
let us pass, and they opened from the flanks. I saw 
Blanchfield fall, right on the road. Everybody scat- 
tered. I started to run, then I thought of Blanchfield, 
and I started back. I rushed across the road, machine 
gun bullets whipping the air everywhere, and I made 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 71 

the Captain's side. He was still alive. He was twice 
my size, but I picked him up and carried him back. I 
got him into the woods to a doctor and left him to look 
for the company. I found them just in time to be in 
for the orders to attack Belleau Wood. 

We went in from one side of the woods. Men were 
falling everywhere. We got the first German funk 
holes and found many dead ones there and a few 
live ones. There were a few fights. A big German 
lunged at me, and now he will never see his father 
in the Fatherland any more. W T e stayed there while 
the Germans pounded us with artillery. 

From then on, it was just a case of stay there while 
they pounded. For twenty-three days we remained, 
just hanging on and then gaining a little. Most of the 
old originals were gone and we were fighting with re- 
placements. Then we got a few days rest and back 
again we went. We stayed twenty days more, but fin- 
ally in one grand smash, we broke in at dawn one 
morning; I never knew the exact date, and we had all 
of the woods. 

The Germans had been stopped ; but from Bel- 
leau on it was one grand smash. To Soissons, and then 
to Blanch Mont, then to the Argonne. Just one con- 
tinual repetition of Belleau Wood until that Novem- 
ber morning when all the Germans said "Kamerad," 
and it was finished. Many weeks later I heard that 
an officer saw me carry Blanchfield away and had 
recommended me for the D. S. C. Isn't it funny to 
get that for doing a thing at a time when I was more 
scared than at anv time during the war. 



72 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 



Captain Wilmar H. Bradshaw, son of William R. 
Bradshaw, of 57 Locust Street, who was with the 
Ninth Regiment, Infantry Second Division, during the 
war, and who participated in various engagements in 
France, has been awarded the Croix de Guerre, for 
bravery, by the French Government. 

The young officer received this much coveted reward 
Thursday afternoon, together with a letter from the 
War Department of France. 

The letter stated that the award was made to Cap- 
tain Bradshaw for his bravery and fearlessness in the 
battle of Soissons, July 18, when he led a detachment 
of his men in a scouting party in an attack on the 
enemy, amid a fusilade of machine gun bullets. In 
this attack about three-quarters of the officers of Cap- 
tain Bradshaw's regiment were killed. 

As a result of Captain Bradshaw's work a band of 
five hundred Germans was surrounded and taken pris- 
oners. In the letter which accompanied the cross, it 
was stated that the award was made to Captain Brad- 
shaw on the personal recommendation of Major Foch, 
whose attention had been called to the young officer's 
wonderful bravery. 

This incident happened a few weeks after Captain 
Bradshaw had been discharged from the hospital, 
where he had been detained eleven weeks because of 
a bullet wound received in another engagement — 
Flushing Journal, May 23. 



PART II. 
THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 





J 

CAPTAIN WILMAR BRAD^T 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 75 

I. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Captain Wilmar Bradshaw 

Bom in Brooklyn. Resides 57 Locust Ave., Flushing. 
Graduate Jamaica Normal School. First Plattsburg Camp and 
officers' training camp in France. Commissioned 2nd lieutenant 
and assigned Ninth U. S. I. (Regular). Promoted to Captain 
while on duty. Cited for obtaining valuable information and 
leading his men with courage and coolness. Croix de Guerre. 

His Own Story 

Outdoor life and athletic games have always at- 
tracted me, and while I am about the last person one 
would suspect of cherishing military ambitions, I own 
up frankly to a great admiration for soldiers. 

The impression soldiers always made upon me was 
of men who were pulled together morally and physi- 
cally. I liked their modest aggressiveness. 

The Plattsburg Camp struck me as a splendid op- 
portunity for young men, a few years out of school 
and college, to find themselves again, become once 
more alert and fit, and above all, learn the value of 
team work, obedience and discipline. 

There was a promise in the camps, so it seemed to 
me, of those things the nation needed at a time when 
we were getting just a little soft and flabby. 

After my training at Plattsburg, I was commis- 
sioned a second lieutenant and sent right off to France. 

There I had a six weeks' course at our officers' train- 
ing camp near Marseilles. 

Those were the great days for our men in France. 
Everywhere we were received with the greatest en- 
thusiasm, loaded with flowers, and all that France and 
her people had to give. It was just what we needed. 
It brought us up on our spiritual tip-toes, as the roar 
of the fans on the side lines stiffens up the home eleven 
when they trot out on the field to meet an opposing 
team with a big rep. 



76 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

I think every one of us, in the silent sanctuary of our 
souls, took a solemn oath that we would fail neither 
America nor France. 

When I left the camp, I was assigned to Company 
A of the Ninth Infantry. The famous Old Fighting 
Ninth, whose story is the history of the republic. 

It was good for me to be sent to such a regiment. 

Of course the regiment was filled with new men, and 
most of the younger officers were, like myself, Platts- 
burg men or veterans up from the ranks. But the 
non-commissioned officers, who are, after all, the mak- 
ing of a command, were mostly of the old army, and 
we had a leavening, in the ranks, of men who had 
served a long time in the Ninth and other regular 
regiments. 

I joined the regiment at Langres, France, and there 
we drilled and drilled the men, and the men taught us 
new officers many things only an old campaigner 
knows. 

By the middle of January, we were engaged in real 
training, and on the 17th of March, St. Patrick's Day, 
left for the front on a sector near St. Mihiel. The 
Irish of the regiment hailed it as a good omen, travel- 
ling that day, to those songs of the Emerald Isle the 
Irish love and sing so well. 

The spirit of the troops was superb. They bore 
themselves with that assurance I had always admired. 
They knew they had much to learn and would pay for 
their lessons and experience with their own blood, yet 
they went to the ordeal with the confidence of men 
who were sure of their ability to do what had to be 
done, and do it right. 

Of course our experiences in the training trenches 
were but child's play compared with what followed, 
but they were rigorous to us then. The First Division, 
had already been in training and through its tour of 
duty in the trenches. 

The Second Division was organized. It consisted of 
the Ninth and Twenty-third Infantry, the Third Bri- 
gade, the Fifth and Sixth Marines, the Sixth Machine 



ECHOE S FROM OVER THERE 77 

Gun Battalion, the Fourth Brigade. Major General 
Omar Bundy commanded the division. 

And now that I have spoken of the division as or- 
ganized, I want to set down some facts as to the ac- 
complishments of these men that perhaps should go 
at the end of this article, but I prefer to place them 
here. 

In the fighting in which American troops were en- 
gaged in France, the Second Division took one fourth 
of all the prisoners that fell to the Americans ; suffered 
one-tenth of all the casualties, about 36,000, and won 
twice as many crosses as our nearest competitor, the 
First Division. 

Let these simple straightforward facts answer those 
who have criticised the Regular Army. I feel that I 
may well point them out, though I belonged to that 
army, for I am not a professional soldier. 

For all the millions the people of the United States 
have spent upon their devoted little army, they were 
paid in full in the bloody days in France between June 
and November, 1918. 

If their record were less strong, my story would 
not be so long. As it is, I pass over the fiery days in 
the Chateau-Thierry salient, when with the Third we 
bore the brunt of the last German rush for Paris. 

The Marines, in the first part of "Echoes From Over 
There," have told the story of the Chateau-Thierry 
salient, and generously accorded us our meed of praise. 
So I pass on to the great offensive at Soissons, when 
in the thunder of our barrage, the whole world heard 
the story of German disaster, and even the War Lord 
himself knew the field was lost. 

When Foch realized that his opportunity had come, 
he did not make the mistake of sending a boy on a 
man's errand. From the long line of fire extending 
from Switzerland to the sea, he culled the best there 
was in fighting men. The Morrocans moved into Vil- 
lers-Cotterets Forest, where they joined their lines on 
one flank with the First Division, and on the other 
with the Second. 



78 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Feats of marching, perhaps on some occasions 
matched, but certainly never excelled, marked the ef- 
forts of all these troops to get into position. 

They came to the battle line on the morning of the 
18th of July, tired from days and nights of continuous 
forced marches, made without food or water, in 
drenching rain, along roads jammed with men and 
transport. 

They came with spirits high, from losses which, in 
other wars and on other fields, had meant the annihila- 
tion of the commands engaged. But the victory won 
in the Chateau-Thierry salient was no Phyrric victory, 
whatever the foe may have thought. 

As dawn broke rosy in the east after a night of 
storm, there in the purple depths of the Forest of 
Villers-Cotterets, we counted off. Some eight hun- 
dred men were reported as "present" in our battalion 
of the Ninth. 

Scarcely had we finished "counting," when the guns 
hidden in the woods broke their silence. 

It was our barrage that was being put over, yet we 
trembled at its violence. Then came the reaction. On 
the wings of that thunder of the artillery, our spirits 
rose and rose; tired figures lost their droop, eyes 
dulled with suffering grew bright with the passion of 
victory. 

The soul of the regiment recognized the great hour. 
A psychological change was wrought on the instant. 
The regiment reached, at that time, its highest state of 
organization. It had but one mind. 

As suddenly as it had begun, the racket stopped. 
The men swung forward without command ; in a wild 
dash they reached the first German line, and with faces 
averted passed the charnel house the guns had made of 
the position. 

On they raced, now checked for a few minutes 
where great trees riven by the blast sprawled in the 
way, and again broken where a machine gun nest, that 
had survived, tore gaps in the lines before the eager 
bayonets did their work. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 79 

They were taking no prisoners then. 

In those breathless moments of the first onward 
sweep, a thousand acts of deathless heroism were per- 
formed and valor became ordinary, trite. 

Oh, but those boys from America, so many still in 
their teens, were magnificent ! The officers fell, and 
fell, yet still the ranks moved on, the boys doing with- 
out direction the things that should be done. 

I saw them by threes, fours, sometimes larger num- 
bers, caught in tight holes, where life for them and 
success for the drive hung by an eyelash. Again and 
again they met the sudden call, mastered the hereto- 
fore unencountered situation. 

Where had they learned this martial lore? What 
sort of a throwback to some fierce ancestral soldier 
strain was I beholding? Then came the answer in a 
flash. They had learned it on the ball fields. It was 
hit and run. It was the infield pinching in or dropping 
back. The quick pick-up of the fumbled ball, and 
the instant dash for the hole in the line for the touch 
down that meant victory. 

Mental alertness was the heritage of those lads of 
ours, and they used it wisely that day. 

Later on, they were hung up for a while, but there 
could be no stopping; the drive must go home. The 
guns could not help for they knew not where the line 
was. The tanks came to the rescue. They "treated 
'em rough" as they advanced, brushing down stand- 
ing trees as though they were but stalks of grain, 
waltzing into gullies, smashing their ugly snouts down 
on gun positions and machine gun nests. 

Under cover of the demoralization they caused, the 
men were under way again. 

T T T T 

Far and wide ran the racket of the fight. We had 
outrun the Morrocans, but off on the flank in the rear, 
we could hear the roar of their advance still carrying 
on. Away we went with our second breath. 

The fighting grew bitter. The Hun was pouring 
in fresh troops to stop us, and though we broke 



80 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

through them again and again, there were always 
others to take their places. 

We were fighting now for each yard of gain and 
buying it with life. A last surge, and we came to rest 
under shelter of an embankment along the edge of the 
woods. The entrenching tools came out and we made 
the ground fly as we dug in. The woods full of Ger- 
mans spread far about us. The Morrocans were not 
yet up, but the roar of the battle on their front told 
us they had not quit. 

The rear was still open — a long brown path back 
to the position of the morning. There in the shadow 
of the tall columnar trunks, our wounded lay in hun- 
dreds, hanging on to life with desperate pluck, refusing 
the little aid that could be offered them, so that no 
fighting men need be taken from the little handful of 
121 that were left us after the day's work. 679 men 
and 43 officers of our battalion were missing when we 
''counted off" after the battle. 

After the battle, do I say? But there was no after. 

The enemy was searching us with his guns, trying to 
organize resistance all about us. Still we hung on, 
and by some miracle of modern times, food reached us 
before dark set in. 

Against a strong attack promptly made and pushed 
home regardless of cost, we should have been practi- 
cally helpless, for we had with us then but three ma- 
chine guns, two automatic rifles and of course the 
soldiers' rifles. 

There were three of us officers upon whom the com- 
mand had now devolved. Captain Foley, of Fort 
Leavenworth, Kansas ; Lieutenant Parkhurst, of New 
London, a son of Colonel Parkhurst, and myself. But 
-we had all the help we needed from those splendid 
men still left us. I can never do them justice. 

As the night drew on, we heard much noise to our 
left, and Captain Foley ordered me to take out a pat- 
rol and find out what was going on. I took with me 
Sergeant Carroll, of Whitestone. 

"Go in from the right, Sergeant," I directed, "and 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 81 

I'll go in from the left. We'll circle towards each 
other, and try and get a few prisoners." 

"Leave it to me," said Carroll, "I can talk German; 
I used to work in College Point." 

His words brought a laugh from us. Then each of 
us with our parties, struck for our destination. Soon 
I heard Carroll yell and went to his aid as fast as pos- 
sible. When I came up to his party, I found they had 
three German prisoners covered with their rifles. Car- 
roll was calling to these prisoners in his College Point 
German, "Handy Ho ! Handy Ho !" meaning of course 
"hands up !" 

I went through the prisoners and took their "stuff," 
then we brought them in and questioned them. We 
learned that there was a ravine off just beyond, where 
some 400 more of them were digging in and prepar- 
ing positions. 

After obtaining this information, I went back and 
looked their position over, while some of the other 
men scouted all night for water. 

The German position was too strong for us to at- 
tack. On the farther bank of the ravine they had es- 
tablished machine gun nests and an officers' dug out; 
the bottom of the ravine was filled with infantry. I 
was able to map the entire position, and locate each 
machine gun before the Morrocans came up in the 
morning. 

After figuring the ranges exactly, the Morrocans 
opened up a machine gun barrage on the position and 
cleaned out the whole lot without a single casualty to 
the Moriiocans. 

For this, and my conduct in the engagement, I was 
cited. 

But all the credit and the glory should go to the 
men in the ranks, who, with almost all their officers 
killed and wounded, fought it out to a successful fin- 
ish, and carried on again the next day. 

In the fighting around St. Mihiel I was wounded in 
both legs and in the back, having twenty-one inches 
of wounds. 




HYMAN ZUCKER 






ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 83 

II. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private Hyman Zucker 

Enlisted Regular Army, June, 1917. Overseas, October, 
1917 , with Battery E, 17th Field Artillery, 2nd Division. Cha- 
teau-Thicrry-Belleau Wood. Wounded severely. Received 
D. S. C. 

His Own Story 

Patriotism, and a longing to do my bit for my coun- 
try, prompted me to enlist in the service on June 28th, 
1917, at Fort Slocum. 

Six days later I was sent to Camp Robinson, Wis- 
consin, and placed in the Seventeenth Field Artillery. 
After five months of training, they shipped me to New- 
port News, and from there I left for overseas October, 
1917, aboard the Adriatic. 

We landed at Brest and went to Chamillon, where 
we received French guns, 155 millimeters. 

About three months later, we participated in the 
drive at Belleau Wood, and then at the Marne, where 
we supported the Ninth and Twenty-third Infantry. 

Right there at the Marne, occurred the most 
important event of my life, at least as far as my career 
in this war is concerned. 

An ammunition dump was on fire, threatening the 
immediate destruction of everything about the place. 
The officers called for volunteers to put out the fire. 
They wanted only the shortest men ; so, with six other 
men, I volunteered to extinguish the flames. In half 
an hour we accomplished the task. 

For this act of bravery, I was awarded the Dis- 
tinguished Serv.xe Cross. 

While we had been thus engaged, our battery had 
shifted. We were seven days and nights gettting 



84 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

back to our battery. Meanwhile we were sure out 
of luck as we had only our emergency rations. Fin- 
ally, we met our battery at Cotterets. There I was 
in action three days while we were supporting the 
Ninth and Twenty-third Infantry, and the Fifth and 
Sixth Marines. 

At six in the morning of July 18th, there was a sud- 
den burst of shell and my legs were filled with shrap- 
nel. I wonder if you realize what shrapnel does to a 
fellow? A bullet is a merciful thing because it makes 
a clean wound and the doctors have a chance to re- 
move it. But shrapnel just splinters its way all 
through you and the doctors have to cut away great 
pieces of flesh around the wound. 

I was sent to a base hospital in Lorraine, where I 
remained till December. 

On December 13th, we left on the Mauretania for 
the good old U. S. A. 

Back in the States once more, I went to General 
Hospital No. 9, at Lakewood, N. J., where I remained 
until early in March. 

'On April 1st I was honorably discharged. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 85 

III. . 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Sergeant Ray Smith 

Born in Camden, N. J. Enlisted August 31, 1917. Overseas 
in November. Assigned Machine Gun Company, 28th Infan- 
try, First Division. Wounded at Cantigny and in Soissons 

offensive. 

His Own Story 

The Twenty-eighth Infantry, in which I was a sol- 
dier, was assigned to the First Division. This Divi- 
sion was composed entirely of the so-called "regular" 
regiments, but its ranks were filled with chaps like my- 
self who sure were amateurs at the military game. We 
quickly found ourselves thrilled by contact with the 
veterans of the regiment, and soon gave ourselves all 
the airs which the professional soldier does not af- 
fect. 

We were the first troops of our army to get the 
training at the front, so it happened that while the 
Second Division was still in training, we were drawing 
first blood from the Hun for our own army. 

On April 27, we took over the so-called "Cantigny 
sector." 

At that time, trench warfare conditions prevailed 
in that sector, and the position was relatively quiet. 
The French and Germans exchanged a few shell each 
day, and there was an occasional raid. 

When we took over, things immediately livened up. 
But the Hun was given no time to make any new dis- 
positions before we were up and at him. 

On the 27th, our Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Artillery 
cut loose with their famous million dollar barrage, 
pounding the German positions with shell of every de- 
scription. As I listened to the guns open up, it 



86 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

brought me back to the early days of my youth, when 
I was a copy boy on the Philadelphia North American, 
and the presses would begin their run with a roar that, 
in those days, seemed like some sound. 

"There goes the special extra edition !" I remarked 
to one of the boys, and I'll say the Hun thought it was 
a "special extra" right enough. 

On the 28th, the Twenty-eighth "went over the top." 
The first American offensive was on. 

It was a pretty sight to see our men as they moved 
on toward the German positions. We marched 
behind the cover of our own barrage. We were con- 
scious of course, that the eyes of the world were on us, 
and for that, though our stomachs felt like jelly, we 
held our heads high, chins in, and dressed the lines as 
though for parade. 

We were, if anything, just a little too unconscious 
of the men who fell, and the bullets that tore by, the 
shell that burst among us. It was deadly serious. 
Later on, we got to where we could go in with a smile, 
a laugh, and a cigarette. But not then. 

We couldn't forget for a minute, the past history of 
our country, and we were concerned over living up to 
what the world had been told about the Americans. 

We had French baby tanks to lead us in, and they 
manouvered about the fields like nothing in the world 
so much as the trained seals in the circus. Some cir- 
cus it was, for we took the blamed old place in just 55 
minutes, and there never was any question but that 
we had it. 

Fritz did not want us to get away with it. It was 
giving us too much prestige in the eyes of his own 
troops. There were several counter attacks, and some 
heavy shelling but "nothing doing." 

I was a machine gunner, as I believe I have already 
said. Those little old machine guns of. ours were just 
naturally starving for some real action. They got it 
when the Hun reacted. We fed the guns Germans 
till they grew white hot with the murder. 

But we had to have food and water, and the Terries 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 87 

kept all the back areas under continual fire. No get- 
ting anything up to us, except by volunteers. 

I was given charge of one of these volunteer carry- 
ing parties. We had learned in our first trench train- 
ing, to time shell bursts, so by close work and quick 
moving, our party got back to the kitchens and loaded 
up. 

There were some of our boys back there who had not 
gone in with us when we went "over the top," and 
they were just wild for a chance to get up to the lines. 
I got twelve additions to my party right there. 

As my own party had enough food for the troops, 
I had the new men pack water. For fighting is the 
dryest business in the world. 

It was still quite light when we started back. The 
Hun spotted us ; I daresay we looked like re-enforce- 
ments. But he let us get a good start, then put a bar- 
rage on us. 

I had told the men, if we came under heavy fire, to 
take cover in shell holes and lie doggo until the "straf " 
was over. 

We kept working our way along, but when we had 
five men wounded, although slightly, and the barrage 
still burst about us, I called to the men to take cover. 
They did it very cheerfully. 

After a while the Hun gave it up. Ordering the men 
forward, I stopped to count my party and found I was 
one man short. My attention was attracted to an old 
well near some ruined buildings. Looking into the 
well, I saw at the bottom a little Irishman, my missing 
man. In the excitement of taking cover the fellow had 
jumped into the well, which fortunately was quite dry. 
There was about the sides and bottom, however, a 
heavy green scum. Calling a couple of the water car- 
riers and uniting our efforts, we finally succeeded in 
getting the man to the top. 

A fine looking Irisher he was, coated green from 
head to toe, and spitt'ng the filthy stuff out of his 
mouth. 



88 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

"For God's sake, what were you doing down there ?" 
I demanded. 

"Faith, Sarg, you said to get into a hole, and that 
was the damndest, biggest hole I could find." 

Well, we all had our laugh, and the rest of the way 
back to our lines was made easier for the joke. Sol- 
diers need to laugh and ease the nervous strain. 

Shortly after that, I was wounded under the right 
arm, but the Red Cross and our surgeons pulled me 
together, so I was back with the boys for the grand 
old row at Soissons. 

During that muss, while reconoitering a machine gun 
nest, I stumbled into a shell hole and found a live Ger- 
man there ahead of me. He went for me with his bay- 
onet, but the "ring" was too small for him. At that, I 
got the tip of his bayonet in the fleshy part of my left 
leg. Before he could get the bayonet loose, I clipped 
him a stiff jolt on the jaw, and out he went. I grabbed 
my automatic and finished him off. 

Some time later, I was in charge of a temporary hos- 
pital just back of the lines. We had many French and 
American wounded and 1 was, myself, just getting 
around from another nasty bite the Hun had taken out 
of my hide. 

Some movements were on, and for the time being, 
the Allied line before the place was being withdrawn. 
We had quick orders to evacuate the wounded. By 
sticking to it till the last minute, and going back with 
the troops, we got every one of the wounded out. 

I wish I had the gift of writing so I could put be- 
fore you, in words that would make you see it, the 
courage and grit of our boys. 

In justice to them I must at least try. 

The first night of the Soissons drive, one of our 
men developed shell shock. He jumped to his feet 
and began to lunge about him with his fixed bayonet, 
swinging his musket in the dreadful "butts manual." 

I called to the men to see what could be done to trip 
him or disarm him, but he fought with the ferocity and 
wile of the maniac. Presently he cornered a boy, and 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 89 

the lad shot him. It was a snap shot from the hip, 
and all the boy meant to do was to wing his comrade 
in the right arm. The bullet struck the poor fellow, 
who had gone crazy, in the right side, landing flat and 
glancing along a rib, tore a hole in the right side that 
live emergency bandages went into. 

There was no way to get the man to the rear. Be- 
hind us were eight miles of ground carpeted with our 
wounded and dying men, whose cries for water and 
troubled moaning made the night hideous. 

All night long, the wounded boy lay among us, re- 
covered from his madness, and never complaining of 
his wound. 

In the morning, we had to have a messenger to take 
some reports back to headquarters. This boy begged 
to be allowed to go. 

I can see him now, leaning against a tree, his face 
haggard and ghastly beneath the sunburn, his eyes 
burning with fever as he pleaded with the Captain. 

"I can't go on with the boys. Let me take it back. 
It'll save you a whole man, and you need them." 

The Captain's lips were quivering. He swallowed 
hard before he spoke. 

"All right, old man, and good luck to you." The 
papers were passed over and we saw the poor devil 
pass out of sight among the trees. 

The message was delivered. 

Eight miles that boy walked, a hole in his right 
side you could put both fists into. 

Need I add, that he died before they could give him 
attention. 

My mind is a reel of thousands of just such scenes. 
So is that of every lad who went over. And that's why 
we don't like to think or talk about the war. We can't 
forget those splendid fellows still over there. 



90 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

IV. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private Charles C. Weise 

Born in Toronto, Canada. Served in the United States 
Army 27 years. Service in Spanish War, First Island Insur- 
rection, China and Mexico. Overseas February, 1918, with 
Coast Artillery. Made dispatch rider. Wounded again and 
again. 

His Own Story 

I was born in Toronto, Canada, and came to the 
United States as soon as I could. Without a trade, 
the army seemed to offer about the best berth at the 
time, so I enlisted. I like the life, and after twenty- 
seven years with "our colors," you still see me with my 
uniform on. 

In the war with Spain, I missed out on Cuba, be- 
cause my regiment, the Twenty-first Infanty, sailed for 
the Philippines on May 4, 1898. We had hot fighting, 
and mean fighting over there. And we were still row- 
ing it with our "little brown brothers," when the 
Chinks started something, and to China we went. 

Believe me, Brother, there was a real fight in 
China, and many's the time the whole expedition came 
mighty close to disaster. I had my first real close, 
honest-to-God acquaintance with German soldiers 
then, and ever since, ached to get one over my sights. 

In China, I was with the Fifth Field Artillery. 
Folks most generally know it as Riley's Battery. And 
you never had no cause to be ashamed of us. 

Our men stood up over there. We had about the 
best there was along. Marines, and the Ninth In- 
fantry, our battery, and some other good fighters. 



ECHOES F ROM OVER THERE 91 

I met a Schenectady man on that campaign by the 
name of Duncan Juno. Let me tell you he was just 
about the best soldier I ever knew in my life. Brave, 
and cool, and handsome, and knowing the soldiering 
game. I reckon if he had lived, you'd heard of him 
in France. But he "went west" along after the Mexi- 
can campaign, where they chewed him up considerable. 

I enlisted in the coast artillery, having just been dis- 
charged, when the United States made up its mind to 
take a hand in Europe. When I arrived in France 
in February, 1918, they made me a dispatch rider. 

That's one of the best jobs in the war. You are in 
the war all the time. You hear all the rumors at the 
rear, and see all the war at the front. 

Every little while, the fellows doing the fighting get 
tired of shooting up each other and want to hang out 
their wash or do some chores, so then they turn loose 
on the roads and areas in the rear. Dispatch riders, 
they just naturally practice sharpshooting on, with the 
biggest guns they have. 

When the boys started after the Germans up at St. 
Mihiel, I was carrying dispatches on my motorcycle 
from Headquarters to the front. The road was filled 
with holes where the heavies had torn things up. It 
was greasy from the rain, and it was under H. E. and 
shrapnel fire. Some interesting, that ride was. 

I was making bets with myself all the way up, and 
had won a year's pay from myself, when smash ! — 

I came to in the ditch. My face was all sticky. I 
went to rub the mud away with a hand, but it was 
blood. 

For a moment I felt queer, then braced up and set 
to exploring. What I found cheered me greatly. My 
wound was more ornamental than useful to the Huns. 
A shrapnel splinter had sliced open my forehead, but 
some mud and my emergency bandage fixed that up. 
But the darned old machine was junk. No "emergency" 
would fix that. 

I was a long way from anywhere, with some place 
important to go. 



92 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Well, the hoofing was good, so I hit the trail. It 
was slow but certain, and I had a better chance to 
duck the shell. As I approached the front, it got some 
unhealthy. The Germans had been putting over gas, 
and were pounding away with everything they had, 
along a stretch of country about two kilometers from 
my destination. I hung out in a crater for two hours, 
then hustled along and turned in my dispatches. 

They do a powerful lot of writing in the army, for 
men who are busy fighting, and they had more stuff 
to go back to G. H. Q. They produced a new motor 
cycle from a dug-out, and sent me on my way. It 
wasn't so bad going back, at first, but I guess the Huns 
must have thought about me presently, for they began 
gunning for me with big ones as I drew near Verdun. 

I figured that having got it once that day, I was 
immune. But I guessed wrong. A big one blew up 
at the side of the road. One piece of shell sliced off 
the handle bar, and I got a bullet in my left leg, but the 
machine was still running, never skipped at all, so I 
sat tight and slid into G. H. 0. 

They gave me a few days' rest after that, while the 
doctors fussed around with me, and the Red Cross sup- 
plied me with smoking. 

Luck was against me. No more had I returned to 
duty, when I had both hands and forearms burnt with 
mustard gas. The scars of that will stay with me all 
the rest of my life. If ever a Hun wants to shake 
hands with me, I reckon I'll see those marks, and not 
forget his dirty tricks. 

You see, after I was burned with the gas and they 
had me in the hospital, along came some German planes 
and bombed the hospital, blowing the roof and the 
sides out. Those of us who survived that, they tried 
to machine gun. 

A Red Cross nurse got it there. And I tell you, 
that hurts a fighting man. 

Well, the army people figured what was left of us 
they'd take good care of, so they shipped us clear back 
to a small city, either it was in Champagne or was 



ECHOES F ROM OVER THERE 93 

called Champagne. I don't recall, and it doesn't 
matter. 

We weren't any more than tucked away in bed, be- 
fore the Hun planes hunted us up and bombed us 
again. Nearly every one in the hospital was killed. 

When I was finally returned to duty, you can figure 
it out for yourself, I was some sore on the Hun, and 
had a hell of a grudge against his fliers. 

My first job was to take Lieutenant Hatton, of the 
Forty-fourth Artillery, up to the front. I had him in 
a side car and we had just got nicely started, when 
those birds of ill omen turned up again, and flying 
low, machine-gunned us, wounding the Lieutenant 
twice, though I escaped unhurt. 

That settled me with the dispatcher business. I 
reckoned that being a regular and a fighting man, I was 
entitled to kill a few Huns on my own account, so I 
hunted up the General and told him so. 

He agreed with me. They gave me an eight-inch 
howitzer to do it with. We were in position near 
Dannemaire, about four kilos from the Swiss border. 
The Germans put our position under heavy shell fire, 
and socked some gas shell along with the others. 

When they figured we were all dead or in our holes, 
they came goose-stepping out in columns to finish the 
job. 

I was just waiting for that. Had been hanging 
around the old howitzer all the time, and I can shoot 
one of those guns like a marine does a rifle. Just as 
I was about to heave on the lanyard, a shell burst on 
one of our posts and I saw sixteen of our boys smashed 
to nothing. 

I sure did lay that old howitzer on the target with a 
vengeance. And when she began to dribble death, I 
had her coughing like a machine gun. 

They said I broke up the attack myself, and they 
gave me a citation. 

Well, that's nice ; but I wasn't thinking about any- 



94 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

thing but that Red Cross nurse they'd killed back there 
in our hospital, and the boys I saw killed as I put my 
hand to the gun. 

Some one said to me the other day: "I suppose 
these young veterans of ours must look very amusing 
to you." 

"Amusing to me, sir,'' I replied. "I've been breaking 
my neck to keep step with 'em and live up to the ex- 
ample they set." 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 95 



AMERICAN LEGION 

Headquarters Temporary Committee 

19 West 44th Street 
New York City 

May 15, 1919. 
Soldier's Publishing Company, 
1482 Broadway, N. Y. C. 

Gentlemen : 

Thank you for your letter. It is a great satisfaction 
to hear what a number of young men have spoken 
concerning my father. There is no question but that 
the war work did them good. The Americanizing 
and democratizing effective in the service was notice- 
able throughout. This is not simply my own indi- 
vidual observation but has been borne out by countless 
men whom I have met during the last month and a 
half. They all tell the same thing, that the love of 
the men for their country has been deepened, that 
their sense of real democracy has been sharpened and 
steadied and that insofar as any possible bad effect 
goes, the men are more than ever ready and determined 
to see order and fair play for all. 

Very truly yours, 
TR:DH Theodore Roosevelt. 




PRIVATE ROY MILLER 






EC HOES FROM OVER THERE 97 

V. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private Roy Miller 

Born in Texas. Enlisted Fort Sam Houston, Texas, May 
17, 1917. Overseas June, 1917. In action with the First Divi- 
sion at Chateau Thierry, Soissons, etc. Gassed. 

His Own Story 

I enlisted at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, on May 17th, 
1917. I stayed here until June 19th when we started 
preparations to leave for France. We finally left on 
June 26th on board the "Pastories." 

When we were out at sea a few days, we sighted a 
submarine and destroyed it before it got a chance to 
do any work. 

Landing safely at St. Nazaire on July 12th, 1917, 
we trained there for about two months and then 
were sent to Valdahon, France. 

Here we remained until October 27th, and went into 
action on the 29th. This was at the Somerville sec- 
tor, ten kilos northwest of Nancy. This was a quiet 
sector, used as a try-out, to see how we would act on 
the battlefield. 

We were here for six weeks, doing very little fight- 
ing, never making any attacks. We remained here 
from October 29th until December 15th, when we 
were sent to the Alsace-Lorraine front. Here we made 
four big drives, and the division captured thousands of 
prisoners. 

We left this front on March 27th, and got to the 
Somme front on April 5th. I was then a gunner on a 
three-inch field piece, and was sent for duty to the 
second line trenches. On Sunday morning, April 7th, 
a little before daybreak, a German tank came "over 



98 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

the top" and I fired three shots at it, and the second 
shot tore it to pieces. 

Sent from the Somme front to Verdun on May 
18th. On the 21st of the same month, we delivered a 
barrage, and captured 800 prisoners on that one night. 
We then went to Chateau-Thierry on June 9th to 
take up the position that the French had held, and 
were unable to hold any longer. 

On June 11th, I was gassed with mustard gas at 
Chateau-Thierry. I was burned all over, and all my 
hair came off ; I was bald, smooth. 

It was ten days before I could be taken to a hos- 
pital for treatment, and therefore lay in a dug-out 
twenty-four feet deep, covered with lard, to keep me 
from burning. On June 28th I received two shots in 
my legs, and was completely paralyzed. I was taken 
back of the lines to a field hospital for treatment. 

On July 4th, my ear drum (left ear) was broken by 
shell concussion, and I cannot hear through it since. 

I was then sent to the Argonne, where I stayed for 
three days, and then had to be sent to a hospital on 
account of my feet, being broken. They had been in 
this condition before, due to wading in so much water, 
and being exposed to all the mud and slush for such 
a length of time, without shoes, only rubber boots. 

I was kept in the hospital from July 12th to De- 
cember 28th, and sailed from St. Nazaire back to the 
good old U. S. A. 

It was a trip of twelve days and we landed at New- 
port News on January 9th, from where I was sent to 
Richmond, Va., and then to Camp Meade, Md. I was 
honorably discharged on February 28th. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 99 

VI. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Sergeant Spiras Thomas 

Bom in Greece, February, 1888. Enlisted in 69th, N. Y '., 
April 3, 1916. Rainbow Division. Service overseas Cham- 
pagne, Chateau-Thierry Sector, St. Mihiel and Argonne For- 
est. Awarded D. S. C. and Croix de Guerre. 

His Own Story 

Born in Greece on February 12th, 1888. Enlisted 
in the U. S. Army on April 3rd, 1916, in New York 
City. Was sent to Camp Whitman, and then to a camp 
in Texas, and later, back to New York. 

On October 26th, 1917, left for overseas on board 
the "Tasconia." Not much excitement going over, 
and after a trip of two weeks, landed at Liverpool. 
From there we went to Southampton, and then to 
France on November 10th. 

We went to a training camp, and after six weeks 
of training, we went to the Lorraine sector. We re- 
mained here for three weeks, and were then relieved 
by another battalion, and we then went to the Baccarat 
sector. We were in the trenches about three weeks. 
We left here on June 21st. 

On July 14th, we got to the Champagne sector. 
There was heavy fighting here, and we were instructed 
by our commander to fight to the end. The Kaiser 
watched this offensive. The enemy started bombard- 
ing about twelve o'clock, and kept it up continually 
for eleven hours. They tried to get through several 
times, but the Americans and French held the lines, 
until finally the Boche stopped. There were heavy 
losses, and many prisoners taken by us. 



100 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Three days later, we went to Chateau-Thierry, 
about July 26th. We were ordered to relieve the 
French, and on the 27th, we started to chase the Huns. 
The next day we advanced eight kilometers (5 miles). 
We took a strong point fortified by the Germans, with 
a lot of machine guns. 

We kept on going, four days, five, until the eighth 
day, when we were relieved by the First Division, 
which was in reserve for a week. From there we went 
for a rest, and stopped about twelve kilos back from 
Chateau-Thierry. We received twenty-four-hour 
passes to visit Paris. Some of the boys took forty- 
eight hours off, and were therefore A.W.O.L., and 
when they returned the regiment had moved, but they 
caught up later. 

We were then ordered to go to the St. Mihiel sec- 
tor. We hiked day and night until we got there. The 
drive started on September 11th. There was a con- 
siderable loss. We were relieved and went to the 
Argonne forest. This was about the 10th or 11th 
of October. We stayed in reserve behind the lines. 
On October 14th, we started an attack, and advanced 
about a mile and a half. In the course of a few days 
fighting, the casualties became so great, that the offi- 
cers of my company were included in the number, and 
I, therefore, took command of the company. I led the 
advance, until relieved by the second battalion. 

For this I was awarded a D. S. C. by General Flag- 
ler, at Zin Zin, Germany, on December 23rd, 1918. 

W 7 e then went to a small sector, which we held for 
two weeks, until relieved by the Marines. 

When the Marines came, the barrage was so thick, 
that the enemy had to run or become prisoners, mak- 
ing this the easiest advance at St. Mihiel. 

On October 1st, we were ordered to leave, and hiked 
about fifteen kilos. On November 5th, we went "over 
the top" again, and the first day it was coining pretty 
fast. The next day, the Third Battalion went on. The 
third day, we were relieved by the French, and then 
we hiked back to Byszancy. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 101 

It was then we heard that the armistice was signed. 

The next day we hiked to Landres-Et-St. George, 
stayed there three days and were then ordered to go 
to Germany with the Army of Occupation. I stayed 
there until March 21st, 1919, when I returned to 
the U. S. A. 

On March 23rd, 1918, was awarded a Croix-de- 
Guerre by a French General for bravery. 




PRIVATE IRVING ABRAHAMS 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 103 

VII. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private Irving Abrahams 

Born in New York City, still resides there. Entered Na- 
tional Army September 17, 1917. Overseas October, 1917. 
Assigned Company B, 23rd Infantry, Regulars. Fought at 
Chateau-Thierry salient and was wounded July 18, 1918. 
Returned to duty and gassed in the Argonne. Returned to 
duty and zvounded again near Verdun and sent back to United 
States for discharge. 

His Own Story 

I believe I was one of the first National Army men 
to fight, and fall wounded in France. And in that 
record I take a just measure of pride. While the 
War was in its first months I stayed at work, for the 
family needed my help ; yet when I was drafted and 
arrangements had been made for the care of my 
people, I was glad to put on the uniform of my coun- 
try. 

Army training and life really represented a great 
opportunity to me. From the time I was a little boy, 
I had worked hard and, through necessity, missed the 
athletic training that gives most American boys their 
good health. 

My training was short at Upton and Camp Green, 
for within thirty days after I first joined the colors, I 
was on my way to France, the land of my dreams. 

We landed at Brest and I quickly joined my regi- 
ment, the Twenty-third Infantry. I soon found I was 
among fighting men ; one of a famous regiment whose 
pride in themselves and their regiment was an inspira- 
tion to me. 

They gave me the training there I had missed at 
home. My stomach flattened out, and my chest broad- 
ened until I scarcely knew myself. 



104 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

The winter months passed quickly, and in June and 
July the world heard from the Twenty-third Infantry. 

The fighting of the 18th of July, stands out in my 
memory for that was the day I received my first 
wound. 

There was a river my outfit had to cross. Some of 
us swam the river under artillery and machine gun 
fire to get into position along the bank where we could 
pick off the machine gunners, and so make it easier for 
the rest of our men to get over. 

No matter how hard they shell you, it does not eat 
up the men like bursts of machine gun fire or gas. 

That swim across the river gave us a jolt in the 
nerve, all right. 

Dripping with water, I hauled myself up the bank, 
and crouching down in some cover, soon had my rifle 
going. The snap of the shots, and the acrid smell of 
the burning powder quieted my nervousness. 

Other men had got across, and they, too, were "firing 
at will." We were not merely making a racket, but 
driving each shot home and making the nests un- 
healthy for the Jerries. 

The Germans did not just take it. Dropping their 
fire at the farther bank, they crossed fire at us fellows 
along the bank. 

They got me, too, almost at the first of it, with a 
machine gun bullet through the leg. 

You see I was comparatively new to the shooting 
game, and while I got my head and body covered all 
right, I did what so many beginners do in shooting. 
Instead of keeping my feet on the ground, I stuck them 
up, unconsciously, and Jerry simply could not miss the 
target. 

I dropped down the bank further, after I was hit, 
adjusted my emergency bandage, stopping the loss of 
blood, and then crawled back to my position to get 
my revenge. 

In the meantime, while the machine gun fire had 
been diverted to our bank, more of the regiment had 
crossed the river. Our fire was growing, and as is apt 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 105 

to be the case when casualties increase under well di- 
rected fire, the Germans growing restive and nervous, 
exposed themselves, unintentionally. 

I had a fine shot at one of them who was at a ma- 
chine gun. They had shot me through the leg, and I 
thought of the old Mosaic law, "An eye for an eye and 
a tooth for a tooth." I could not get a shot at a leg, 
so I took a hand. 

Two men I got that way, one after another, and the 
machine gun stuttered to a stop. I had forgotten all 
about my wounded leg, and when some time later our 
line rushed forward, I tried to go along with them, but 
the leg would not let me. 

Our stretcher bearers were right on hand, ignoring 
the enemy's fire, though it accounted for many of 
them. They picked me up, fixed up my wound again, 
and got me back across the river to a dressing station. 

Those fellows deserve a good word and a lot of 
gratitude. For I want to tell you, if it was not for the 
stretcher bearers who went right out and got our boys 
and brought them to the dressing stations, there would 
be more of us sleeping in France than there are. 

In forty-five days, my wound had healed and I was 
able to rejoin my regiment. In my old company I felt 
like a stranger, for so many of the old crowd had been 
killed in the bitter fighting at the time I got mine. Re- 
placements had come, however. The ranks were full. 
You know, no matter how many men are killed, the 
regiment does not die. 

We were presently fighting in the Argonne Forest. 
A gas mask was not much protection, for it was al- 
ways getting torn off in the woods, and the Germans, 
knowing it, treated us liberally to gas. 

I got a fine dose of mustard gas, and back to the 
hospital I went again. Despite all the pain, those were 
happy, glorious days. 

The Red Cross, the Hebrew Relief Service, and the 
Salvation Army did all they could to make life endur- 
able for us. But the days had their dark side, too. 
So many of the fellows "went west." They went 



106 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

bravely, too, without a murmur, smiling to the last, 
thinking not at all of themselves, but of their folks at 
home, and the boys still up at the front. 

Presently, I was able to return to duty and once 
moie found myself among strangers. Even the offi- 
cers were new' to me, for they had suffered as well as 
the men. 

We were fighting near Verdun, but I saw little of 
it, for a German H. E. blew up close to me, drenching 
me with the blood of my comrades, and wounding me 
severely. , 

I was in a Paris hospital when the armistice was 
signed, and believe me, I was some happy. I think 
no one can say I was yellow because I felt relieved at 
not having to go back into that hell at the front again, 
for the record of the regiment and the Division gives 
the answer to that. 

I don't really feel that my story is worth the telling, 
for I came back. But if, from what I have written of 
my own experiences, people can gather an idea of what 
those who died in France went through before their 
great moment, in their day of glory, then I shall be 
happy. 

We left Brest for the good old U. S. A. January 10, 
1919, on the "Canada" and had a fine trip. 'They cer- 
tainly did everything in the world to make us com- 
fortable and we needed no help to be happy. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 107 

VIII. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Charles A. Pettit 

Former automobile racing champion of Texas, bom in 
Winona, Mo., raised in Fannin, Texas. Forty-two months' 
service zvith the British and American armies. Wounded 28 
times. Lost his leg while with A. E. F. 

His Own Story 

Yes, I joined the British Army at the very begin- 
ning of the muss in Europe. Just naturally had to go 
and help out, for I never did like the Germans. And 
out in Missouri they raise he-men with red blood in 
them. Then, as I said, I grew up in Texas. 

Texas ain't no nursery for white feathers. 

We got the kind of citizens down there "Teddy" 
was always talking to, and quite a tolerable amount 
of us went along to Cuba with him and give a good ac- 
count of ourselves. 

I had some good training with the British, and I 
seen all the red blooded men in the world, I guess. I 
was at Gallipoli when the Australians was there. They 
sure did make me feel like I was with home folks. 
They look like us, measure up about our size, and 
shoot like we do. 

When the United States jumped in, hat in the ring, 
and a gun in each hand, the English turned me loose 
so I could go with the Americans. And I went and 
done it, in a hurry ; joined right up with the Rainbows, 
and I made no mistake. 

They did not measure up as tall as the Australians, 
and a Texan or an Australian could shoot rings around 
them with his left hand — but they had spunk. Proud ! 
Well, say, the Rainbows was some proud ! I knew 
they'd fight like bear cats, for when you get a young 
American bank clerk, insurance agent, druggist or 



108 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

what not, and fill him full of small town jazz, that the 
"boosters" clubs turn out, and then put him in a county 
convention, or a firemen's fair, or a militia regiment, 
alongside of another bunch of boosters from Bing- 
hamton or Dallas — say ! He's going to keep the lime- 
light burning on his home town, if he has to supply the 
fuel himself. 

Well, there's the Rainbows for you. The minute the 
bunch was off duty, they held a high conclave of all 
the boss boosters of the country. I felt at home there, 
too. For I'm a Texas booster myself. You have to 
show the man from Missouri, but the guy from Texas 
will do the showing himself. 

We knew why the French and English didn't win 
the War. 

They was waiting for us. We was sure of it, and 
that's the way we went over. 

Now don't get the idea we was a passel of conceited, 
young, small town boys. We knew we had a man's 
job cut out for us, but we knew we was the men who 
belonged on the job. 

The fellows who trained us, took out the frills and 
put on the polished steel finish. 

Because I could drive anything that had a engine in 
it, they stuck me in Company E, One Hundred and 
Seventeenth Supply Train, O. M. C, attached to the 
Forty-second Division, the Rainbows. 

We went to France ; and while the line got ready 
for the big job, learned all the little tricks of the Hun, 
and worked up a few new degrees of their own, I 
rustled the chow for the bunch. 

Fighting is a hungry job, and when the Rainbows 
started in they kept going. Here today and gone to- 
morrow, to put in a wallop somewhere else. 

The big refrigeration station of our army was at 
Gavres, France. Ed load up there and start out to 
find the men. It is part of this war game to keep the 
men on the line without food and water, and it's an- 
other part of it to get the food and water to them. 

I was on the get-it-to-them end, and no matter how 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 109 

thick it got in France, it was tame compared with 
what we went through when I was at Gallipoli — ex- 
cept for the gas. The Turks may be heathen, but they 
was too much gentlemen to use gas. I got some re- 
spect for them. But a German just naturally will do 
anything. 

When our men went in at the Soissons row, I was on 
a trip to them with plunder — canned tomatoes, meat, 
and so on. Their line was up along the Ourcq River 
about July 27th, when they were trying to get across, 
and the bloody froth of the fight blew back in my face 
as I plowed along to the front. 

God, how they punished the Rainbows that day ! 

Half a dozen times I was warned to turn back, but 
the sight of our men,— the men of my division, — flood- 
ing past me broken wrecks; and the stories they told 
of the line held up ; sent me on. The wounded said 
the men up at the front were hungry and dry. 

I knew no damned river would stop them, once they 
had their chow and wet their lips on some of those 
Maryland packed tomatoes. 

So I went ahead. 

They had been nearly forty-eight hours with nothing 
to eat when I caught them. Scattered among the trees, 
with their machine guns chattering over the Ourcq, its 
current choked with Rainbow dead, the men were lick- 
ing their wounds like a pack of cougar hounds that 
had been all clawed up and had not got their beast, 
though they had it up a tree and were waiting to re- 
new the fight. 

What do I care that the Huns got me and got me 
good on the way back ? Damn them ! 

The Rainbows had crossed the Ourcq. 




PRIVATE ALBERT MARKS 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 111 

IX. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Private Albert Marks 

Born at Neivport, R. I., February 5, 1896. Enlisted in 
69th, Nezv York, National Guard, July 17, 1917. Overseas 
September, 1917 . Seriously wounded in Champagne sector 
and reported dead. 

His Own Story 

I was born at Newport, R. L, on February 5, 1896. 
Enlisted at the Old Sixty-ninth Armory on July 17, 
1917. Happened to be the first and only Jew to sign 
tip with this company. For this I was nicknamed 
'Tatty Irish," the Fighting Irish Jew. 

I landed at Brest on September 12, 1917, with the 
"'Fighting Irish." We trained for three months with 
rifles and bombs, and after that had another month's 
training with gas masks. 

On February 26th, we were put in the front line 
trenches in the Lorraine sector. This is where our 
regiment got the first taste of war. 

We lost thirty-eight men in a dugout, including one 
officer, Lieutenant Norman. Four men were trying to 
pull him out, and had him up to the knees, when an- 
other shell came and buried him and several other men. 
His last words were, "Don't worry, boys, we'll all be 
out." We dug for ten hours straight trying to get 
these men out. We did not use picks and shovels, for 
we didn't have them, but used helmets and drinking 
cups. 

A pioneer officer told us three times to get up and 
leave it alone, but we wanted to get our buddies out. 
I, personally, after being there for ten hours, went and 
got a pick and shovel, then a shell came and buried 
the place again. 



112 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

We never got that officer, and that was, no doubt, his 
death. 

Then the third battalion went in, and were in five 
hours when the Germans sent over a gas barrage. Out 
of 500 men, eight were not gassed. All the rest, 492, 
were. I, at the time, was delivering a message to 
Major Donovan, and got a whiff of the stuff and was 
sent back to a hospital. 

I caught up with my regiment at Ansiville, and from 
there we went to Baccarat where we were finally re- 
lieved by the Seventy-seventh Division. 

This was June 28th, and we started on a hike to 
the Champagne front. 

I carried my mail from home in one of my pockets, 
and during this hike I lost a few letters. Some of 
these were picked up by one of my officers, and some 
by a young lad in my own division. This youth was 
later hit, and fell unconscious. 

A French sergeant happened to pick him up, and 
was with him till he died. His last word was, 
"Mother." This French sergeant then wrote back to 
my folks (having taken the mail from the dead boy's 
pockets) stating that I died and my last word was 
"Mother," and he thought it was his duty to fight for 
my revenge. 

He told my people that he had buried me with three 
other boys, and even told them where he buried me. 
When my mother got this letter, she also received my 
insurance and back allotment from Washington. Two 
weeks later, when just about to go into mourning for 
me, she received word from me, explaining just how 
and where I was. I was wounded at the time. 

Well, we got to the Champagne front on July 2nd. 
On July 14th, we were doing barb-wire detail with the 
French from four o'clock until eight o'clock (four 
hours), and at ten minutes to twelve that night we 
were ordered to get down into the trench for control 
of No Man's Land. We stayed there four hours, help- 
ing the French hold the front line. At four o'clock 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 113 

the next morning, we were told to go back to where 
the rest of the regiment was located. 

Lieutenant Otto was at the lead, and he looked up 
in the communicating trench and saw the shell were 
flying too heavy, so he told us to get back. 

As I turned around, a shell broke even with my hips. 
A few pieces of shrapnel were in my head, luckily it 
did not hit me in the temple I was also hit in the arm. 
The concussion of another shell threw Sergeant Jimmy 
Hamilton two feet into the air. He came down right 
on my back, so hard, that I thought I was hit again 
and thought I was broken in two. 

I picked Jimmy Hamilton up with one arm, the best 
way I could, and pulled him into a dugout, thinking 
he was still alive, but a French doctor pronounced him 
dead. 

I stayed there from 4 o'clock till 8 :30. Three times 
I was ordered to go back to a first-aid dressing station 
for treatment, but refused. I was resolved to avenge 
myself. 

At 8 o'clock the Germans came over, and the first 
German that came over the trench, I killed just as he 
came over. I then went to a hospital to have my 
wounds treated, and the doctors called it a compound 
fracture of the right shoulder and upper right arm. 
I was in Chaumont, A. E. F. headquarters, and from 
there went to Savenay, Base Hospital No. 8. This is 
the Post Graduate Hospital, of New York City, and 
here when a man is slightly wounded, he goes back to 
the front line trenches ; and when seriously wounded, 
he goes back to the "States." 

Being seriously wounded, I was sent back, and 
landed at Newport News, Va., on September 2, 1918. 
When I got back, I immediately wired home. The 
folks thought that I was shell shocked, and everything 
else that goes with it, but when I telegraphed home for 
money, my father was sure that I was very sane. 




SERGEANT JOSEPH MORINI 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 115 

X. 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Sergeant Morini 

Born in Catania, Italy. Enlisted in Company D, 103rd In- 
fantry, of the 26th Division, the Yankees. Overseas 1917. 
Seicheprey, Chateau-Thierry salient. Wounded taking of 
Hill 204. Gassed. 

His Own Story 

New England was my part of the country, and Bos- 
ton my home. If not of the old Yankee stock by birth, 
I was by education and inclination. It didn't take the 
Mayflower to make an American out of me. 

When America declared war, I realized the time had 
come for me to make good on my Americanism, so I 
enlisted on May 16th, 1917. My training began at 
Camp Devens where they did their level best to make 
soldiers out of us. 

It was hard for us to learn the habit of implicit and 
instant obedience, for by nature I was, and so were 
most of the boys, inclined to go it alone. 

We'd heard so much about the German soldiers be- 
ing stupid cattle, who could drill but not think, that 
we most generally held to the idea that all we needed 
to become soldiers was to take a gun, stuff it full of 
cartridges, and blaze away. Each one of us was go- 
ing to win the war. 

But we found out, that if we were going to keep out 
of each other's way and get our grub in time, we had 
to learn to march. That is, we were beginning to 
find out from our own experiences that we didn't 
know much about the war game and the soldiering 
business, and that it was up to us to lend an attentive 
ear to those who could tell us. 



116 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

We began to make progress from then on, and after 
a while the officers addressed themselves to our intel- 
ligence and spirit of go it alone, for they were not try- 
ing to kill that, but teach us how to employ it best. 
The idea was, that we should be intelligently brave 
at a time when every mother's son of us would be at 
heart scared to death. 

Camp Devens did that for us and did it not only 
for war but for peace. 

Then we went overseas as the Yankee Division. 

More training in France, and then we took over a 
part of the front near a place you may have heard of 
by the name of Seicheprey. The Twenty-sixth Divi- 
sion will never forget that place, and by the same 
token, the Germans won't either. 

We made them pay in the fight at St. Mihiel for 
the good time they gave us at Seicheprey. 

That spring in France, was a hectic period, and as 
spring waned into summer, things grew interesting and 
we saw the fighting we had come for. , 

Between May 31st, when the motorized Seventh 
Machine Gun Battalion of the First Division blazed 1 
into action in support of the French Colonials who 
were holding the Marne at Chateau-Thierry, and the 
18th of July, the Twenty-sixth had come up from its 
training area, had taken over the Belleau Wood sector. 

We knew, of course, our boys were winning, but 
when we saw the fields covered with our dead, and as 
we deployed our lines in the woods and among ruined 
houses and found more and more of our men, we 
wondered, with so many of them killed, who had lived 
to defeat the Boche. 

I'll tell you now and tell you honest, the sight of all 
those boys killed made us pretty sick. You could smell 
the dead for miles. The Camp Devens training stif- 
fened us up and we were ready to do our duty, but we 
were not crazy for the job. 

I suppose you people who read this will think we 
were not brave. Well, we stuck out and went in when 
our time came. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 117 

But it sure was some jolt to us to camp out in Bel- 
leau Wood. 

On the 18th, the left of the Twenty-sixth was 
thrown forward to maintain contact with troops that 
had gone ahead. The fight then spread along the 
whole line. It filled the world. The sky was on fire 
with it at night, and the roll of the guns never stopped. 

The Twenty-sixth was in it. We had become ac- 
customed to the companionship of those who had fal- 
len, and were becoming anxious to prove our own 
mettle and right to the title of the Yankee Division. 

Some of the men from the First Division were 
going out and passed us. They laughed at us and 
jibed us. 

"Who ever saw a dead Yankee?" they chanted. 

There were plenty to be seen before the next night, 
and a regular officer who happened to pass my com- 
pany cried out to us : 

"Well done, Twenty-sixth ! You belong." 

The fighting of the 20th and 21st was bitter enough 
to satisfy even the German appetite for gore. 

Overlooking Chateau-Thierry, a hill pokes its head 
above the surrounding forest. On the maps the un- 
imaginative people who make our maps had named it 
"Hill 204." Our first big job was to take that hill and 
hold it. 

The air hummed with machine gun bullets with a 
sound as from the wings of swarms of black flies in 
the North Woods in July. The bullets bit and stung 
us and drew our blood. But we were travelling fast. 

The first fire of a machine gun nest on our advanc- 
ing line was often its last, for our eyes, and minds, and 
purpose were all centered on the crest of Hill 204. We 
just rushed ahead regardless of everything, and took 
it. 

In the last effort to reach the crest of the hill, I saw 
my Pal and Buddie blown to atoms by a bursting shell, 
while I went down with a machine gun bullet through 
my leg. 

The Twenty-sixth went on. The wounded and dead 



118 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

were left behind. Those who were lightly wounded, 
by that I mean, so they could walk or crawl, tried to 
get back to the dressing station alone. The rest waited 
for the stretcher bearers and ambulances. 

I had quite a dose of the hospitals and just before 
I was returned to duty, a blessed fifteen days in Paris. 
I liked the old town. 

Returning to my regiment, I was gassed just about 
the first thing and before I was again fit for duty the 
armistice was signed. 

So you see I did not win the war all myself, but I 
think I won the right to the name Yankee all right, 
for I went up that hill, in the face of their machine 
guns, and tried to catch the Germans with my hands. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 119 



AMERICAN OFFICIAL COMMUNIQUE 133 
Headquarters, American Forces, Sept. 26th, 1918. 

Section A — This morning northwest of Verdun, the 
First Army attacked the enemy on a front of twenty 
miles and penetrated his lines to an average depth of 
seven miles. 

Pennsylvania, Kansas and Missouri troops, serving 
in Major General Liggett's corps, stormed Varennes. 
Montbainville, Vauquois and Cheppy, after stubborn 
resistance. 

Troops of other corps, crossing the Forges Brook, 
captured the Bois de Forges and wrested from the 
enemy the towns of Malancourt, Bethincourt, Mont- 
faucon, Quisy, Nantillois, Septsarges, Dannevoux, and 
Gercourt-et Dirllaucourt. 

The prisoners thus far reported number over five 
thousand. 

Pershing. 




CORPORAL JOHN H. BENNETT 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 121 

XL 

THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW 

THE STORIES OF THE "REGULARS" AND 
GUARDSMEN 

Corporal John H. Bennet 

Enlisted as a private June 7 , 1916, in the Engineer Corps. 
Overseas November, 191.7. Wounded at St. Mihiel, returned 
to duty and wounded again zvhile bridging Meuse River and 
leg amputated. 

His Own Story 

I enlisted in the service as a private on June 7, 1916. 
On November 14, 1917, I was sent across on the 
George Washington. 

We landed safely and after much shifting around 
and drilling, we finally moved to the Vosges Moun- 
tains, and went into action July 15th, 1918. 

After the capture of the town of Frappell, I was 
attached to the Fifth French Army, doing instruction 
work. I was gassed at St. Die July 21, and lay on the 
field eight hours, before I was picked up by a French 
patrol and carried to a hospital in Geradmire, France. 

August 3rd, I reported to my outfit for duty. We 
drilled for the St. Mihiel attack that took place on 
September 12th. At nine o'clock in the morning of 
September 14th, I received a machine gun bullet in 
the left shoulder and was carried to a hospital at Toul, 
where I remained three weeks. 

October 18th, we started a hike back to the Argonne 
Woods with a pack of ninety pounds on our backs. 
We hiked for four days and nights. 

October 26, we went over the top about 25 kilo- 
meters from Verdun. We were in the battle four 
days, and were then relieved and sent back 23 kilo- 
meters. The morning of November 1st, we were sent 
again to the Argonne Woods, and went over the top 
until the 4th. 



122 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

A platoon of 54 men was sent to the Meuse River 
to build a bridge for the infantry to advance. One 
lieutenant, three sergeants and fourteen privates were 
killed. Therefore, as I was corporal, I was left in 
charge. We were surrounded by a box barrage by the 
enemy. We put two bridges across, and both were 
blown down. Finally, as we could not keep a bridge 
up, we got the infantry across in pontoon boats. 

At nine-thirty that evening, a high explosive shell 
wounded me in the left leg, and in the right hip also. 
I lay on the field until four o'clock the next day. Dis- 
covering that I was losing a lot of blood, I took off 
my right legging and tied it around my left knee, 
stopping the flow of blood. At four o'clock I was 
carried away by a French ambulance. 

There were only eight boys left of the fifty-four I 
was in charge of. Two were wounded by shrapnel, 
the rest were killed. 

I was carried to a hospital behind the lines, where I 
remained five days and was eventually sent to No. 
68 at Mars. In December, my leg was amputated 
above the knee. 

March 4th I left Brest on the S. S. America, bound 
for the good old U. S. A. On March 12th, I was 
taken to Debarkation Hospital No. 5, Greenhut's, 
New York. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 123 



"PASSED BY THE CENSOR" 

EXCERPTS FROM LETTERS OF A STAFF 

OFFICER OF THE SEVENTY-SEVENTH 

DIVISION 

A. E. F., 

May 25, 1918. 

We had a rough trip over, but it was great. Sighted 
a few subs and got a thrill. 

Landed on my birthday, and ever since have been in 
the midst of an intensely interesting and rapidly de- 
veloping film of life and action. 

It's so huge, this game. And one is compelled to 
live right in the immediate present. I've only seen a 
little, and just that little puts a different angle on my 
ideas. 

Had a great trip over the Boche lines in a plane and 
got my first real fire from anti-aircraft and machine 
guns. Fritz didn't get us, but came mighty close. 

Naturally, I can't write all I would like to. It's the 
most interesting life imaginable, and I'm strangely 
happy. I lived years in a couple of minutes lately, and 
surely that intensity is worth while. 

My French is improving, I can patter fairly well 
now. Never felt better, and am getting lots of exer- 
cise. I have a great little horse ; I never got my "grey" 
from the States. Named this new one "Vimy." 

In the evening, we sit around a large dinner table, 
smoking, and drinking a Scotch and soda or light wine. 
We talk it all over, the old life and the new, bits of 
news from home, what might have happened if the 
war hadn't happened, etc. It's all very absorbing. 

You'll have to excuse the rambling character of this 
letter, but there's always so much going on right close 
to me ; too darn close, part of the time. 

Remember how we used to talk over whether I 
would "get the wind up," or scary? Well, M — , I 
guess they all do, a bit, for I've talked with lads who 



124 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

have been through incredible hell, and they all agree 
one does feel a little nervous, but "carries on" just the 
same. I got awfully dry in the throat, when the Boche 
were shooting at us the other day. Later, while sit- 
ting in a shop back of the lines, having a bottle of wine 
with an Englishman, the shelling got quite intimate. 
I noticed that both of us were somewhat unsteady with 
the hands. However, you can fight it off — if you can 
control your imagination. 

August 29, 1918. 

There are many difficulties about correspondence 
here. First, there is so much of interest that one can't 
write about, an all wise censor prohibiting. Second, 
without meaning to, one gets on the personal side too 
much, and becomes a fearful bore to one's friends. 

At the risk of injecting too much ego, I will say that 
I'm well and happy, and still have all my arms and 
legs, very needful in these hectic days. Brother Boche 
has spared me so far, but hasn't missed by any too 
wide a margin, I'll tell the world. Certainly no one 
is bored in our little family. 

One strikes a medium in any sort of life, and I, for 
the most part, preserve an even tenor of disposition. 
I have been sublimely happy and distressingly sad ; 
always fairly busy ; very tired at times ; disgustingly 
dirty for short periods ; for the most part well fed, and 
only once cigaretteless. That last was a calamity. The 
wonderful charm of it all is, its absolute uncertainty, 
new emotions sounded, — actual work done. 

And a spectacle to watch and participate in that has 
the Ziegfield Follies, The Great Train Robbery, Bel- 
levue Hospital, the Slocum disaster, and the San Fran- 
cisco fire, looking like a nickel side show. 

Sure have seen some doings, — tragic, heroic, and 
ludicrous. It's a blessing that the human mind can 
adjust itself so quickly. Why, I've seen lads calmly 
reading a letter from home, while less than a half mile 
away the damndest show, I swear reverently, was rag- 
ing to the tune of Hell's Symphony. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 125 

But, M — , whatever they send us, we double the 
stakes. And, oh, boy, it's a plenty ! 

Well, one could write forever, and not tell half. 

One thing I must talk about though, and that's our 
girls over here, nurses, canteen workers, entertainers, 
etc. They are wonderful. If I ever was inclined to 
be a sentimentalist, the little I've seen so far has 
knocked it out of me. But I must say that the forti- 
tude, courage, devotion, and cheerfulness displayed by 
our girls under even the most distressing circum- 
stances, is nothing short of marvellous. They go any 
place, never seem to get panicky, and believe me, they 
come fast at times, too. Not the girls, — I mean shrap 
and heavies. They sure are inspiring. No, no, — not 
the shrap, — I mean the girls, — Oh, what's the use? 

I'm a lucky lad. Everything so far has finished hap- 
pily for me, in spite of some very near ones, and a wee 
bit of gas, just enough to give me a touch of "mal de 
mer." 

We sure get some good laughs out of letters. One 
fellow's wife wrote she had sent him a sleeping suit, 
you know the kind kiddies wear, with closed feet. And 
none of us with our clothes off at night for two weeks ! 

My brother is over here and I got a great letter from 
him. It appears that a certain brand of French cham- 
pagne was a bit too strong for him. Anyway, he got 
a trifle zig-zag. He was disciplined by being made to 
don a pair oi blue denim overalls with a large "P" on 
them and put to work on real estate with a man-sized 
shovel. 

"You know, Kid," O — wrote jukingly, "they put all 
of us Princeton men in one company." 

Oh, the intense humanness of it all ; I mean our side, 
— not the Boche. If this game doesn't bring out the 
good qualities in a chap, nothing will. I never could 
be a snob after what I've seen. Often from the ones 
you least expect it of, brotherly love, helpfulness, cour- 
age and sacrifice under the toughest conditions. You 
get so you love every one of your men. 

And the kidding ! It started the day we warped in 



126 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

at the dock. The first thing we saw was a big, officious 
English cop. One of my men, sitting on the anchor, 
piped up, " 'Ello, Bobbie, I 'opes yer well." The kid- 
ding never ends. Just a few minutes ago, the outfit 
induced some slow thinking lad to ask the cook for 
a piece of porterhouse steak. The boys are great, 
funnier than the best acts at the Palace. Right now, 
a lad is singing in a high falsetto : 

"I don't care how they miss me home, 
If the Germans miss me here." 
You can't be anything but cheerful with this outfit. 

October 21, 1918. 

It's been a very busy little campaign. Until yester- 
day when I took a hot shower and luxuriated in fresh 
linen, I hadn't had my clothes off in three weeks. 

What a succession of strange, exciting, humorous, 
pathetic, and heroic parts I've sten enacted in this 
drama of War. It's like another life, for now I see 
it in retrospect. I'm sitting in a little shack, which was 
built by the Boche. I'm very cozy in front of a bright 
fire. There is even a piano, plundered by the Boche 
from some French chateau. 

The General presides over the little family, still 
nearly intact, — only one absentee. We laugh and kid, 
Gene plays snatches from old Broadway shows, but 
deep underneath we are changed, I'm sure. The re- 
membrance of dear friends gone, and of frightful 
sights, can't be dispelled so quickly. 

M — , remember saying that I was coming back? 
Well, I guess you were right. It looks as if they 
couldn't get me. Sure have had some close ones ; my 
horse killed, a bullet through my raincoat, and other 
narrow escapes. But I guess I'll fool 'em. 

I'm very happy to have been recommended for an 
immediate promotion in a letter from the General. 
He wrote lots of things that I really don't deserve, but 
that, nevertheless, are gratifying to hear. He said that 
if it were permissable, he would recommend me for a 
captaincy. It all goes on my record, and I'm glad. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 127 

Don't think this is vainglorious pride. I've seen too 
much over here to believe in the sham of talk. I'll 
never put on any lugs over this affair. Too much has 
been seared into me. 

Certainly, the boys had Brother Boche on the run; 
it was great to see him draw back. We gave him 
everything we had, and he's still going. It looks like 
the beginning of the end. 

I may get a little leave. If so, I will visit my 
brother, about a hundred miles away. Also, I'll get 
some new uniforms, for mine are literally in shreds. 
I had to get issue enlisted men's clothing, as I was 
breaking out into society in a shameful way. I'd have 
been arrested if I'd appeared in public. When I got 
a look at myself in a mirror, I sure had a good laugh. 

One thing I've learned just lately, is to look at 
trouble in the big perspective. I had that lesson 
knocked into me when I blundered into a little show 
with about fifteen men, holding approximately five 
yards per man, totalling seventy-five yards of front. 

Well, it was hot. A couple of times I was wishing 
for a Blighty. Things looked dark for quite a while. 
Then it cleared a little ; we got ahead a bit, — finally it 
all lulled down. I was thinking what a tough time 
we'd had and how important we were, when I over- 
heard the Colonel say, "Today, on the entire four 
hundred mile front, " 

And I thought what a damn fool I was, thinking I 
was fighting the whole war on a seventy-five yard 
front, when the big idea was the four hundred mile 
front. 

The individual doesn't count in this big game. 

Well, as a moralizer, I'd make a good plumber, so 
I'll quit the Walt Whitman, Ella Wheeler Wilcox 
stuff, and pursue the straight narrative. 

I just read a Ring Lardner story and he wrote one 
line that struck me particularly funny, "There are a 
lot of bugs over here, and some of them are in khaki." 

Today a nice boy who joined us recently was given 
three days' leave. He is going to visit some people in 



128 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Aix le Bains. He is run ragged trying to borrow a 
pair of breeches. He is rather a tall, slim lad, fussy 
about his clothes, and in this particular case, very anxi- 
ous to make a hit. So far, the best he has been able to 
borrow is a pair about six sizes too large. Some one 
just now brought him a pair of overalls. He has fif- 
teen miles to ride to the nearest railroad station, and 
his train leaves at four. The poor kid is in a terrible 
stew, and the bunch stands around kidding him. Some 
one just suggested that he make a pair of breeches out 
of his blanket. 

It's a cruel war. 

Our General now is a two star. That means our 
family will break up. It certainly was fun working 
with him in the advance, for he's a wonder. The men 
love him and behind his back, they call him, "Uncle 
Wit." He sure has been great to me, with the letter 
he wrote for me. And, really, what I did was nothing, 
compared to lots of the other fellows. 

I hope you can read this pencil scrawl. I've lost all 
my letters, fountain-pen, address book, — everything. 
At one stage of my wanderings, I found myself alone 
with a bottle of Cologne, a tube of tooth paste, and a 
can of corned beef. My bedding roll has been lost for 
weeks. I use my horse blanket and a shawl I acquired 
somewhere. When the shades of night approach, and 
the urge of slumber arrives, I just gracefully recline on 
the floor of my shack, my trench coat buttoned up 
tightly, my little cap on, and in my hand my trusty 
stick that I safvaged off a dead Boche officer. They tell 
me I look very angelic. One lad thought I was dead. 
It's a great life, I'll tell the world. 

A. E. R, 

December 9, 1918. 
Life is certainly pleasant here. The sun has been 
out quite a lot and the country is beautiful. I ride 
around on my horse or in the General's limousine. 
The little French kids are playing again and it all 
makes one very happy. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 129 

We sit around after dinner and play the Victrola, 
lots of McCormick records and old comic opera scores. 
It's comfy, a nice open fire, a bunch of good fellows 
laughing and chatting, and you think how pleasant it is. 
Then from away in some hidden recess of your mind, 
you get a thought of some old friend. You picture 
him as he lies alone in some little patch of forest in 
the Argonne, or in some small, rude cemetery where 
French civilians, Boche, soldiers, — French and Ameri- 
can, — are all buried together. You see the low, white 
cross with a gas mask and helmet hung on it, and you 
think of former gatherings when he was along; you 
remember his laugh and his voice. — 

And it's not just one that comes into your mind, it's 
lots and lots of them. 

I can't figure out how so many who had more to 
live for and were much more worthy than I, should 
have had to pay all. 

So that's how it goes, but for the most part, I'm 
happy as a king. Life is kind to me, — health, an ador- 
able mother, and the best of friends. 

New York sure must have gone crazy when hostili- 
ties were called off. I'll keep the game honest, and 
say that no one could have been more pleased than I 
was. The place where we were, on the banks of the 
Meuse River, was decidedly hot. The night of the 
tenth, we heard rumors that eleven o'clock the follow- 
ing morning, all bets would be off. During the night, 
the Boche lobbed over a few big ones that took away 
a section of real estate, and the shell weren't any too 
far from our happy home. The next morning, I had 
to go out in a side car to a nearby town to get some 
dope, and the road wasn't the healthiest place in the 
world. When the Boche were still putting them over 
at ten-thirty, I began to think maybe Jerry hadn't 
heard about this armistice stuff. I was a bit worried, 
I will admit. Then side cars make you uneasy because 
the noise of the motor drowns the sound of the shell 
and you can't tell where they're headed. However, 



130 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

that really doesn't matter, because you never hear the 
one that hits you, anyhow. 

I looked at my watch several times, and when at 
eleven o'clock, the firing ceased, I was sure a happy 
kid. 

And now it's over. I thank God it is, and you'll be- 
lieve me, that it's not on account of my own selfish 
hide. 

But just to think of what it means. No more suffer- 
ing, no more disorder. 

From now on, the distressing sights are to be cov- 
ered up; the litter of battle salvaged; and the green 
slopes, fields and roadsides will be rid of debris. Towns 
will be rebuilt, and filled with men and women living 
sanely, pursuing their lives in peaceful tenor. 

You can't get it, unless you've seen the wreck and 
despair. Broken guns, field pieces, old clothes, clotted 
bandages, wagons and ambulances shot away, bloody 
stretchers, dead horses and men, masses of putrefying 
flesh, — all will be buried and removed from sight. 

In the back areas, whole towns are in ruins, women 
weeping, little kids, emaciated, with old, pinched faces, 
wistful, no heart to play. No more of that, thank 
God. No more injustice, no more fear. 

Why, it's OVER ! 

It had to be. I suppose so long as there is life and 
ideals, we will have to protect them with as rotten a 
thing as war, if necessary. But it is rotten. 

I can't realize it's over ! 

We made a long march back over the way we 
battled through. Now we are in a training area in 
the south of France, near Chaumont, and it's very 
pleasant. I am billeted in an awfully comfy room, 
stove, large French bed, and more tapestries, beads, 
and pictures of Christ than an altar. 

With my limited French, I induced the old French 
girl who owns the house to make coffee for me before 
breakfast. I have a striker, who serves it to me in 
bed, and then says in a beautiful brogue, "Come on 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 131 

now, out wid ye, it's toime to be goin' to yer break- 
fast. Faith, an' the Gineral, hisself, is up." 

"In a few minutes," I say sleepily. 

"I will not lave till I see ye start to put yer clothes 
on," he announces. 

If I flop back on the pillows, he yanks the bed 
clothes off. He sure does bully me. 

After breakfast I ride around and check up on drill 
periods, and inspect the stables and quarters. A nice 
open air life, but I sure would like to stroll into the 
Biltmore for a cup of tea. 

December 27th, 1918. 

Christmas done come and gone. I'm going to tell 
you about Christmas in France. 

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through 
the town, not a creature was stirring, but that's not 
a bit unusual as this is a particularly quiet town. But 
seriously, my Christmas consisted of staying in bed 
and missing breakfast, then taking a long horseback 
ride through the woods. At one o'clock, we all sat 
down to a very nice dinner, fine roast turkey and fix- 
in's, champagne and cordials. We toasted the de- 
parted ones, the Army and Navy, and a quick return 
to the U. S. A. 

After dinner we sat around an open fire and smoked, 
drank liquers, and talked over old Christmases in the 
States, and wives and girls at home. 

Well, it got just as cheerful as a convention of 
morgue keepers. Then we put on some nice cheerful 
records, "I Hear You Calling Me," "Love, Here Is My 
Heart," "Snowy Breasted Pearl" and "Say Au Revoir, 
but Not Good-bye." 

About this time, when the gaiety was at its height, 
some one suggested that we finish off some champagne 
we were saving for supper. We finished that, and then 
things began to assume a more seasonable glow. You 
might say that the carnival spirit was rife. 

A Y. M. C. A. entertainer was to sing at the "Y" 
in the evening. A girl ! So we sent out Doc H — , the 



132 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

vet, to get introduced to the lady and ask her to supper 
with us in the evening. Doc started, but got side- 
tracked, returning later, sans girl. In no uncertain 
language we told Doc just the kind of a guy we thought 
he was. Doc refused to get sore, saying that he had 
been insulted by experts. 

Well, to make a long story short, we went to the 
show, and after one glance at the girl in question, 
Doc became the most popular man in the party. She 
was a nice girl, all right, but she had no corner on the 
beauty market. 

Snow fell during the night, and the next morning, 
the little village and valley looked like fairyland. The 
men had a good old fashioned snow ball fight. 

M — , we had quite a big fire in the stable of the 
chateau the other day. 

The General and family, including yours truly, were 
at dinner, when an orderly rushed in and announced 
that the stable was on fire. We tore out and got the 
horses and saddle tack out. The wind was strong and 
for a while it looked as though the whole chateau 
would go. Two companies of infantry arrived and we 
started a bucket brigade. Then a French fire engine 
or pump arrived. It was a little two by four with 
about ten yelling Frenchies dragging it. Maybe they 
weren't excited. They started to unlimber and fight 
over who was to hold the nozzle. They never had 
a look in, for a big, burly private stepped up and 
settled that war. He was going to run that fire. 

We worked all night and put out the fire. The men 
sure did enjoy it. They hadn't had any excitement 
since the armistice was signed. It was a scream. 

The little French cure hopped up and down, yelling 
encouragement and advice. It couldn't have been 
otherwise ; he got it full in the map. It was like a 
Charlie Chaplin film, any time an excited Frenchie 
got in the way, he got a wetting down. 

The damage was slight, and "a good time was had 
bv all." 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 133 

The days pass fairly quickly with manouvers, tacti- 
cal exercise, and training. I ride a great deal. 

My room is very comfortable, with a dinky little 
stove that I drape myself over. My bed is a big, high 
boy. If I ever fall out, it's good for a broken arm or 
leg. 

I'm getting to be quite a parley-vous artist. People 
who speak good French say I'm very funny. I have 
speed, but no technique. 

Meanwhile, patience is one of the virtues we learn in 
the army. I'm cultivating it. Some day, a boat will 
hump up to a Hoboken dock, and this fledgeling will 
be on it. In the meantime, I'm sitting tight. 

Yesterday I read the "Love Letters of a Rookie." I 
love that line about the sweater the girl's mother sent 
him, "I got the sweater your mother sent me. I'm* not 
sore, Mable, give your mother my love just the same." 

January 19, 1919. 

I am very happy, of course I will be happier when 
I get back to the States. 

Though very quiet and not in the least hectic, life 
is pleasant here. A fine lot of brother officers. We 
ride together, loan each other the few books we can 
get hold of, visit together in the evenings before an 
open fire. 

Doc H — , our vet, went to Paris on leave the other 
day. Before he left, the chaplain said, "Now Doc, 
come back clean." Doc says, "I came back clean all 
right, — not a cent." 

The only distraction in the City of Juyencourt, — 
don't you love the name, — is a regimental show given 
at the Y. M. C. A. twice a week. I go regularly, an 
ideal first nighter. Usually, I take Suzanne, a won- 
derful French kid about nine years old. She wears 
an officer's overseas cap, and pinned around on it is 
every insignia ever worn in the army. She is all 
grades from second lieutenant to general, and belongs 
to every branch of the service, infantry, cavalry, avia- 
tion, etc. 

The shows are amusing; several of the players used 



134 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

to be in burlesque, so there's always a lot of slap stick. 

Suzanne loves it, and is a great audience. If there 
is a pathetic ballad rendered, Suzanne is on the verge 
of tears. If the song is gay, she laughs aloud. 

I watch Suzanne, and get double enjoyment out of 
the show. 

My leave has been delayed again. 

But if I ever feel like grumbling, I think of what a 
winter campaign in the line would have meant. Then 
again, I'm healthy. It's much more fun to be walking 
around on two legs than on crutches. "Ow, my eye, 
that would 'ave been a bally wash out." 

You know, the army is a great institution. The 
lads in khaki that are actively engaged, pity the Naval 
Reserves, those who didn't join the service, and the 
chaps overseas who didn't see any fire. The ones with 
wound stripes pity us, who fought but were not hit. 
And they, in turn, bow their heads before the dead. 

After all, they are the real heroes. 

And how quickly they are forgotten. 



PART III. 
THE NATIONAL ARMY 




CAPTAIN GEORGE U. HARVEY 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 137 

I. 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26f H, 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

SEVENTY-SEVENTH DIVISION 

Captain George U. Harvey 

Co. A. 308th Infantry. Born in Galway, Ireland. Went 
to first Plattsburg Camp as assistant instructor. Commanded 
Co. A. 308th, Sept., 1917-Sept., 1918. Served on General 
Staff A. E. F. Sept., 1918-Dec. 1918. Served on British front 
April and May, 1918, at second battle of Arras. Served in 
Vosges Mountains ivith VII French army. Entered Chateau- 
Thierry drive August 5th. Took part in fighting on Vesle 
River, near Fismes. Co. A. was part of the Lost Battalion. 

Captain Harvey is now in the printing and publishing busi- 
ness, the Harvey Press, 109 Lafayette St., Neiv York City. 

Note Written by Captain Harvey to 
Mr. Hamilton 
Dear Sir: — 

Regret I did not see you, but hope you can get 
enough from these notes to serve your purpose. 

This is a copy of a letter that I wrote home and has 
never been published. 

Kindly cut out any personal references I may have 
used, as all credit in this war should go to the enlisted 
men, not to the officers. 

For God knows, they did the trick, not us. 
Yours truly, 
(Signed) George U. Harvey. 

His Own Story 

Knowing you are interested in fights, I am going 
to try and tell you about the real one we had at 
Chateau-Thierry and the Vesle River, when we beat 
hell out the Hun, and commenced the turn of the tide. 
Am sure you will agree, had we not helped to stop 
him then and sent him on his way, conditions would 
not be as they are today. 



138 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

We had been in the Vosges for over two months, 
and my company was doing its turn in the front lines, 
when we got word that we were to move. Of course 
we didn't know where, nobody ever does. 

The night I was relieved, we got away from the 
trenches about 12 p. m. and marched most of the night, 
or what was left of it, and when day broke, we made 
camp and rested. As soon as it was dark, we were 
on our way again, and so on the next night. In these 
two nights we covered over forty kilometers — not bad 
for a bunch who had done eight days in the front line. 

At the end of our march, we reached a good sized 
town and here waited for our trains. I was what they 
call train commander and had the job of getting our 
battalion on board, wagons, horses, men and all. They 
packed from 35 to 40 men into a small horse car, but 
our lads didn't kick, as it's much better than hiking. 

I was given sealed orders, with instructions not to 
open until so many miles from the station. I opened 
them in due time. Of course, I never heard of the 
place mentioned in the orders, but with due consulta- 
tion of the map, I found that the place was near 
Chateau-Thierry, so then there wasn't much doubt as 
to our destination. 

After two days of bumping around and going along 
about 12 miles per hour, we arrived at our station. 
Here I had to unload, find out where the battalion 
could camp, etc. We found a good town this time, 
saw a little life and had a few good things to eat, as 
we were but a few hours from Paris. 

From the military activity about, we knew we were 
in a place where they were pulling big league stuff; 
the country was full of English who were doing their 
bit at Rheims ; Italians and French who did good work 
at Soissons. 

We didn't linger much at this town, however, but 
early the next day, got our orders to move, and damn 
quick at that. We did, and after going about five 
miles, we saw a fine line of busses, into which they 
packed us like fish. We knew that when we were go- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 139 

ing for a ride in French busses, it meant business, and 
that we were needed badly somewhere — so we bumped 
and bumped over the roads of Sunny France for about 
twelve hours, going into Chateau-Thierry and beyond 
till we reached Fere-en-Tardenois. It was dark when 
we reached this town, and from the ruins and smells 
we knew that something must have happened. I had 
to take the battalion into a wood about a mile out of 
the town. It was about 9:30 p. m. when we reached 
them, and I shall never forget that place — it was filled 
with dead men and horses. The whole wood was 
pulled to pieces, the weather was warm and the smell 
of the bodies — I shall never forget it. 

Everywhere you stepped, you stumbled over some- 
one. I didn't sleep an awful lot. The next day we 
spent in clearing the place, and it was some job. This 
town was the Hun's base for his drive on Paris. The 
amount of stuff captured was beyond description — 
you couldn't see all his dumps in a week. There were 
shells everywhere, guns large and small, beyond count. 
We found a great store of bottled mineral water which 
the Hun gave to his men. We certainly did enjoy it. 
The only thing I found him to be short of was to- 
bacco — what we found was made of ground oak leaves 
and neatly packed. The Hun was very active with 
his planes and seemed to own the air, so we had to 
keep close to the woods. 

In one of his dugouts, we found that a British Tom- 
mie had written his name, regiment address, etc., say- 
ing that he was a prisoner and to notify his people, 
which we did. 

It was near this place that young Roosevelt lost his 
life, and judging from the number of planes which we 
saw lying around, he was but one of many. Here we 
could hear the roar of battle and it kept going all the 
time ; all night the sky was lit up. Part of our division 
was in the fight, but as everything nowadays is in 
depth, and as we were the last to go in (having just 
come out of the line), we had to wait until there was 
room in the front line. 



140 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Our second battalion went up, just 750 strong, next 
morning, 150. Then the third went up, and then it 
was our turn. 

It was about noontime when we got word to go for- 
ward at once ; this is unusual, as troop movements are 
supposed to be made at night, but necessity sometimes 
alters the case. We afterwards learned that our bat- 
talion, on the line, had been badly cut up and required 
relief. At one-thirty, I moved out with a few men at 
a time, finding our way across country through the 
woods, which hid our movement from the Huns' 
planes. We lost our way and found it again, but al- 
ways marched in the direction of the sound of the 
guns, which after all, was a sure guide when going 
into action. 

We crossed a railroad and here saw every bridge 
blown up. Judging from the hoof prints up and down 
each side of the steep railroad embankment, it was 
evident that the Hun went out in a hurry and spared 
neither man nor beast. 

Late in the afternoon, we reached our camping place 
for the night. It was a dense wood into which we 
found our way, and we made ourselves as comfortable 
as possible. We were now under fire of the big guns, 
but we had used such caution that the Boche did not 
learn of our arrival. 

The air activity was great — we spent what was left 
of the daylight in watching many interesting air fights. 
At times there would be from twenty to thirty planes 
raising hell with one another. The Hun, however, had 
the upper hand and did just about what he wanted, 
setting fire to one of our O. B. balloons, which was 
just over our woods. 

The next day the captains went up to the second 
line to look things over. We had our share of escapes, 
as the Hun was doing all in his power to hold us for a 
few days and we had run into a hell-hole, all ready 
and prepared for us. I am sure the losses were greater 
in the weeks we held on at the Vesle, than in the whole 
Chateau-Thierry fight. It is easy enough to go for- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 141 

ward, but when you have to stop and fight the Hun in 
positions he has selected, you are certain to pay the 
price. You want to remember that all this fighting 
was open, and we had to dig our own shelters. You 
can't do an awful lot of hole-making with the little 
entrenching tool that you carry. All the day was spent 
in going over the position which our companies were 
to occupy in the second line. We then made our way 
back to our companies to wait until dark. 

At dark we led off, finding our way through the 
wood, in Indian file, with about ten yards between 
men. This idea is all right if everybody pays atten- 
tion, but when conditions are confused, you are apt 
to land at the end of your journey with a half a dozen 
men, the rest of the company being God only knows 
where. Things went along all right until we were 
about two miles from our position, when we had to 
come out into the open and in front of our batteries. 
Then Jerry got busy. He's a wise old fellow, and 
knew just exactly the roads and paths we had to fol- 
low — he always seems to know what you are doing 
and the night we went up he was extra wise. He 
shelled us the whole time with shrapnel which luckily 
was bursting too high to do any great amount of real 
damage, but it was terrifying, and we spent the rest 
of the trip running forward and flopping, looking for 
a hole or a tree to duck behind. This lasted for about 
four hours, and there were many killed and wounded, 
but none of my men. You can usually find a way 
around a barrage, but this one seemed hard. I would 
stop, lead off one way, and just as I would get well 
started, the fire would shift and come down on us. 
I was knocked down several times by the concussion, 
and heard the shrapnel pieces hitting my tin bonnet. 

To make matters worse, our position had been 
changed from that which we had looked over, and 
as our guides were not sure of the way, we had to 
wait (it seemed for hours), for somebody who knew 
the country ahead. 

I found my position, it was on the top of a hill which 



142 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

was slightly curved, and it reminded me of what the 
beach at Gallipoli must have been. On our right were 
two batteries ; two hundred yards behind us, in the 
valley, were several more batteries ; and on our left, 
more. I took up a position a few yards below the brow 
of the hill, and although the men were dead tired, I 
stood over them and made them dig the whole night. 
Each man made a pretty good hole. The next day I 
had all hands in the wood cutting logs and picking up 
suitable stuff for head cover. I made them dig all 
night, every night, for two reasons ; one, they got good 
shelter, and I am proud to say that during the eight 
days I was on this ridge, not one of my men was 
wounded. The other reason was that when day came 
they were dead tired and only too glad to sleep, thus 
the Hun didn't know that we were there (as his planes 
were very active the whole time). 

The guns never stopped, day or night, and the Hun 
never ceased his fire. He knocked the battery on our 
left out, then the one behind us. I had a wonderful 
place to watch — I could hear the shell coming, duck, 
and then up again to see them burst. There were 
many of our men killed and wounded — I would hate 
to tell you just how many. There was never a min- 
ute, day or night, that big stuff was not coming, and 
most of the shell burst within two hundred yards of 
our line. R — couldn't stand it and went to the hos- 
pital, a nervous and physical wreck, and there were 
others like him. Then they put gas over the whole 
night, but our position was high, with usually a stiff 
breeze blowing. We could look into the valley and 
village below and see the gas clouds covering every- 
thing. We heard the horns going, and knew that 
somebody was having a bad time. Gas is about the 
worst thing in war, as a few shell will put a whole 
company out of business. High explosive does but 
little damage; and when the shelling has stopped, it's 
all over, but not so with gas, it is just commencing. 
I have known men to be gassed and burned by mus- 
tard several days after a gas attack, just by going into 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 143 

a wood or a dug-out. It makes these dug-outs or 
wood, etc., simply uninhabitable, and you must get out, 
of course. Rain washes it out, and that is the reason 
why the boys at the front don't mind when it rains. 

It is needless to say, that during my eight days on 
the ridge, I didn't sleep very much, as there was al- 
ways something to do, and the nights were made 
hideous with constant gas alarms. We had pretty 
good food, as our kitchen was in the village about 
two miles away, and twice a day we carried up food. 

I want to tell you about two faithful little Italians 
whom I had, and who looked after the officers' food. 
At Fere-en-Tardenois, they found a two-wheeled ma- 
chine gun cart, which the Hun had left behind, and 
in this they carried what food they could find. They 
filled a can with batter for flapjacks and at most un- 
expected times, they would get a fire going and come 
around with a plate full of the most delicious cakes, 
naturally everybody would wonder where on earth 
they came from. 

The things which I have told you, and will, may 
perhaps seem to be untrue, but any infantry man who 
has come out whole from a big fight, no matter 
where, has had the same experiences. In fact, every- 
body who does get away safe and sound has had hun- 
dreds of escapes and it's a marvel to me that anybody 
does escape. 

At the end of eight days, the company commanders 
were ordered to the front line to look matters over on 
the ground of the company they were going to re- 
lieve. I left early in the afternoon, with two ser- 
geants, and I am going to tell you in detail our ex- 
periences in reaching the front line, as some days later 
I had to bring my whole company (190) men over the 
same route and at almost the same time of day. 

The first thing we had to do was to report to the 
Battalion Headquarters of the outfit to be relieved. 
This was about three miles from our position. The 
first half mile was through a wood that was being 
shelled and full of gas, but we came through without 



144 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

trouble, but the next part of the journey did not look 
promising. We had to cross a plateau which was 
about two miles wide, without cover or holes, and 
rising right above this was the Hun position so situ- 
ated that he could see every movement on our side, 
and even one man was subject to violent fire from his 
Austrian 88's. Well, he shelled us the whole distance, 
but we suffered no damage beyond the dirt and dust 
caused by his damned shell. 

Now, at the edge of this plateau was a valley, half 
way down was a village, the "Villa Savoy." One road 
led into the village — this was the special sniping ground 
of an expert with an "88," and every inch of the road 
was under observation. At the foot of the valley, lay 
the River Vesle, and the Vesle was our objective. 
This dirty little stream is certain to live in American 
history, as a spot where our boys showed what they 
were made of , and that Americans know how to die, 
for surely this name will be long remembered in many 
a home. 

Battalion Headquarters were near the Villa Savoy 
(but somewhat above the road which was the object 
of the "88" sniper). I reported, received a guide and 
set forth. We made our way with great caution till 
we reached the road. Along this, the four of us had 
not gone over one hundred yards before we heard the 
shell coming. There was no cover beyond a bank 
about ten feet high along the road. W T e fell under 
this, put our tin hats over our faces and waited. Here 
we stayed over an hour, not a shell was further away 
than twenty feet, all hitting into the bank. We were 
jarred, covered with dirt, and pieces of steel, after 
each shot we would ask each other if any one had been 
hit. Talk about hell, it had nothing on this. 

We simply waited to be killed. We couldn't move 
— there was nowhere to go — they were coming at the 
rate of about two a minute. At last, getting desper- 
ate, we each took turns and ran down the road, the 
nearest cover being an old house about two hundred 
yards distant, and believe me, I did move. Then the 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 145 

building was hit, and we ran like rabbits from one 
building to another, until the Hun either got tired or 
lost us. 

About an hour later, Captain Brooks, three lieuten- 
ants and four men were killed near the same spot we 
had occupied, so you see I was right — the Hun simply 
couldn't get me. Really, I hate to tell you what I went 
through, as I feel that you don't believe me, but every 
infantry man who has come out of a big fight has had 
just what I had, and doesn't think that my experiences 
are anything unusual. 

The village was in an awful condition, simply be- 
yond description — a hell on earth. The dead had been 
there over a week, that is, some of them. There lay 
the poor wounded lads, waiting for night when they 
could be carried up the road which I had just come 
down. 

We went out of the village, down the bed of a small 
creek, and about one-half mile beyond till we reached 
the Vesle. 

We crossed by the one bridge, and reached the R. R. 
some four hundred yards beyond. There were no 
troops on our right or left, and we were the only 
Americans across at this section. The Huns occupied 
all the heights and knew every inch of the ground. I 
reached the railroad and found that the Hun controlled 
this absolutely with his machine guns. A hole had 
been dug through the bank through which we went 
on our hands and knees (my objectives was the wood 
beyond). By the time we arrived there, it was pitch 
dark, so all we could do was to find Company Head- 
quarters which were in the middle of the wood. There 
were no trenches, but simply small holes which each 
man had dug himself. We had posts of two to four 
men along the edge of the wood, while at a chateau 
some eight hundred yards to the right, a platoon. 

Soon after one a. m., the Hun opened with a bar- 
rage. It was the worst I had ever heard, and sounded 
as though the end of the world was coming. W^hat 
damage it did to the woods, the men knocked out, etc., 



146 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

can best be imagined, as his fire lasted about five 
hours. I was shaking like a leaf, with my head stuck 
into the bank. The place was choking with the smell 
of the bursting shell. I asked the captain just before 
day was breaking, if there had been gas used or not. 
He sniffed and said "no." "Then we had better get 
on the job," I remarked. "They are coming over." 
We just got on our feet, when sure enough, they were 
among us. Several men, about twenty feet away, 
were burned by their torches. They had come around 
the woods from all directions — everywhere you turned 
you heard their damned M. G.'s and bombs. They 
were yelling and making an awful noise, and it was 
surely terrifying. 

There was nothing now but to fight — we knew that 
retreat was impossible, as the barrage was moved be- 
hind us, so the fight began. We were all over the 
woods in little groups and each had its forty or fifty 
Huns to look after. I had my two sergeants and with 
two other men, I took care of our left. I grabbed a 
rifle and bayonet, and we played the good game of 
bluff on them. It worked great. We would lie down, 
shooting what we could at the distance, when thev 
came too close I would yell "Charge" and the five of 
us, yelling with all our might, would go into them. 
They never stopped once (once would have been 
enough). I didn't know how many were killed, but 
we did our bit. One of our men went after nine of 
them, and killed them all. 

Things commenced to look helpless, in fact they did 
from the start. Nobody ever expected to come out and 
the best we hoped for was to be taken prisoners. I 
threw away all my papers and just kept righting. We 
heard some shouting at the edge of the woods, then a 
number of Huns with their hands up — these were the 
first signs of hope, now we knew that he was quitting 
and pulling out. From the prisoners, we learned that 
about 1,000 had come over. We were 160, and killed 
250 of them and took about 20 prisoners. When we 
took stock, there were about fifty of us left. We de- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 147 

cided to pull out of the woods, and formed up with K 
Company on the track. It took considerable time to 
move the wounded out — we couldn't get them through 
the hole in the railroad bank, so we climbed over the 
top of the bank and took a chance. The platoon at 
the chateau was missing and we never found a trace 
of them, even later when the division went on to the 
Aisne. We hope the poor lads are prisoners. 

Company K had a hard time of it also. They had 
fought well, killed their share and suffered equally 
with us during the shelling, especially when the bar- 
rage moved back to the track, they received hell. 

The two companies now held the track, and we 
commenced to dig holes in the bank, as we knew the 
Huns would be mad for the beating up we had given 
them. 

We spent about five hours getting things into shape. 
Everybody was dead to the world and very hungry, 
as we had had no breakfast and had lost what food 
we had. 

I was on the left of the line, working on my funk 
hole, and not paying a great deal of attention to what 
was going on. The men near me I noticed had pulled 
out, but I didn't think anything of it. The next thing 
I knew was that the Huns had worked around each 
flank, had gotten behind us and now opened up with 
their M. G.'s, at about 200 yards. About this time, 
a party came over the track and jumped almost on 
top of me. They got my coat and I spent the next 
few moments running to the river with eight of them 
after me. I don't know how I got away, but I'm here. 
I ran pretty fast, and reached the river, wondering 
how in the world I was to cross. As I told you, there 
was only one bridge, but luck was with me. A shell 
had knocked a tree down, which lay across the river, 
and over this I stumbled and scrambled while the Hun 
had some fine target practice. While finding the way 
to the river, everybody I saw seemed to have a ma- 
chine gun, they appeared to be in all directions and 
the bullets kept buzzing about my ears. However, I 



148 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

was so exhausted by this time that I didn't care 
whether they hit me or not. 

I now made my way back to the Villa Savoy, and 
here I spent a few hours doing what I could for the 
wounded, who, poor devils, were put in cellars, for in 
the street they were being killed or wounded by the 
shelling. The stretcher bearers were too tired to 
work any more, so a lieutenant and myself tried our 
hand at the work, which meant carrying the wounded 
up the road (under shell fire), of which I had my ex- 
perience the night before. I lost some of my best men 
here, who were carrying the wounded. But this was 
hard work and I couldn't do any more, so I went back 
to Headquarters and reported. 

Here I was told that my company had been ordered 
up at once, to reinforce the companies on the Vesle. 
They left the second line at one o'clock and came 
across the plateau under a terrific barrage. However, 
only one man was slightly wounded. I met them, and 
down we went through Villa Savoy and into the Vesle, 
where what was left of two companies (47 men) had 
taken up their position, after their retreat from the 
railroad tracks. Our men put new life into them and 
they began to reorganize their position. 

In due time, darkness commenced to settle down, 
and with it came the Hun, with his light machine gun. 
He got around us until his fire came down from all 
sides, front and rear, while his guns were shooting at 
our rear, to make help impossible. We three captains 
got together and decided to get out and hold the heights 
and have the valley filled with gas — in other words, 
do what the Hun was doing. So out we went. 

It took us about three hours, and about 1 a. m. we 
reported to the Battalion Commander as to the action 
we had taken. However, his orders were different, as 
it was the intention of the First Battalion to form be- 
hind our position on the Vesle, and to attack at day- 
break for the purpose of retrieving the lost position. 
We debated and decided that I would go back with 
Company A and take over the position. So out we 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 149 

started. I didn't have much hopes of getting our posi- 
tion, but orders are orders. 

We got as far as the Villa Savoy, when the Hun 
opened up on our flanks with his machine guns. I 
sent small parties out on the flanks and continued on. 
It was now about six hours since we fell back, and 
believe me, I was worried, as there was no way of 
telling whether or not the Hun had taken over our 
position. To make matters worse, when I counted 
noses, there were two platoons missing. There was 
no telling what had become of them. You can under- 
stand that it was hard to keep all the company together, 
as we went Indian file with about ten yards between 
men, and with the darkness, confusion and noise, it is 
quite easy to understand men getting lost. 

The machine guns were sending a hail of bullets 
our way, and you could hear them hitting the trees 
overhead, but on we went. Then along the railroad 
bank, then into the woods, just back of the Vesle and 
our position. Now the machine gun fire was not only 
coming from both flanks, but from our front and rear. 
The woods seemed to be alive with them. I formed 
my outfit facing four ways, like a hollow square, de- 
termined to stick it out and make the best of what 
looked like a bad job. 

We expected the Hun to attack at any time, but 
nothing doing except the M. G.'s and an occasional 
shell. 

About three-thirty, our artillery opened fire, with 
the object of clearing the woods and country to our 
front, which we had lost the day before. Our front 
trench (at least the one facing to the front), was just 
100 yards from the opposite bank of the Vesle. The 
shell would go overhead, hit the bank, and it was ner- 
vous work sitting there waiting to be shot. But our 
guns were doing wonderful work and I don't remem- 
ber a single short shot. The barrage would go for- 
ward to the woods, play on it a while, and then come 
slowly back to the river, then on again. 

In the meantime, we waited in vain for the rest of 



150 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

our battalion, which was to form behind us, but it 
didn't come. However, our two missing platoons came 
in, which made us feel a great deal better. The bar- 
rage stopped at five o'clock, the hour for the attack, 
but no battalion. I didn't know what to do. I asked 
Whiting (Lieutenant Clinton Whiting later killed with 
the Lost Battalion), and he said to wait a while. I 
did, until 6 :30, and made up my mind that I could do 
the job myself. 

The Vesle had three crossings, they were not 
bridges, but some logs thrown across the river, which 
at this point was about thirty to forty feet across, ten 
feet deep and filled with barbed wire. I decided that 
about fifty men could do the work, that is, of recover- 
ing our lost position, or of clearing out the Boche, so 
that we could occupy it when the rest of the battalion 
came up. 

About forty men crossed at the center crossing, 
formed for attack, while a squad with an automatic 
rifle crossed on each flank. 

We had no sooner crossed the river, than the Hun 
opened fire with all he had. We soon found where 
he was, about two hundred yards away in front of 
the railroad, well hidden in the bushes. We got down 
and fixed bayonets, and commenced to go forward, a 
man here and a man there. The rest of the battalion 
commenced to arrive, and also to lose a good many 
men, for the Hun appeared to be nervous and was fir- 
high, which resulted in the men who were coming up 
being hit and suffering many casualties. 

We kept going forward, while the party on the right 
was able to push well ahead unobserved, and getting 
on the Hun's flank, opened up a hot fire with their 
automatic rifle. We saw the Hun wavering, with a 
cry, we went into him with fixed bayonets, and he took 
to his heels, went over the railroad bank and ran down 
the track. The squad which had flanked him followed 
down. I joined this party. There were about forty 
Huns and we shot them like chickens — they pulled off 
to the right and the whole bunch tried to get into a 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 151 

small opening at once. We were now within a hun- 
dred yards of them and opened up with our automatic 
rifles, leaving most of them piled up ; at the same time, 
we rushed two machine guns, the gunner being un- 
able to open fire, owing to their own men being in the 
way. We sent one of the crew back as a prisoner, the 
others are still there. 

The minute the Hun got off the track, some M. G.'s 
down the track opened on us and it was our turn to 
run. How so many of us got away alive, I don't un- 
derstand ; however, two of our party were killed and 
three wounded. We then went back to the Vesle and 
on taking count, I found that it had cost us two killed 
and eighteen wounded, the only losses I had in Com- 
pany A while in the Vesle. 

The 308th Infantry were at Battle of Arras — The 
Vosges — Chateau-Thierry — The Vesle — The Aisne — 
Argonne Forest — Captured Grandpre — First at Sedan 
— beyond that it didn't do anything. 

George U. Harvey, 
Captain 308th Infantry, U. S. A. 

Company A was part of the Lost Battalion. The 
regiment received four Congressional Medals of 
Honor, 180 D. S. C.'s; Company A, 21 D. S. C.'s; lost 
approximately 650 men and 20 officers. 




PRIVATE JOSEPH B. RIGLER 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 153 

II. 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

SEVENTY-SEVENTH DIVISION 
Private Joseph B. Rigler 

Bom in New York City. National Army September, 1917. 
Overseas April, 1918. Dispatch runner. Seriously wounded. 

His Own Story 

With the Seventy-seventh Division, I sailed on the 
Justicia for Liverpool, arriving on the 19th of April, 
1918. 

Shortly after, we crossed the Channel to Calais 
where we were welcomed, the night of our arrival, by 
an air raid. 

Gee, but we were scared. I thought sure I'd die 
that night. All we were told to do for protection was 
to lie on our bellies. If a shell ever hit our tent, "Good 
bye, Buddy." 

Next day we went down to the town to see what 
damage the attack had done. It sure was terrible to 
see the place in ruins and so many homes in flames. 

We then started on a twenty mile hike and believe 
me that's no joke with a ninety-pound pack on your 
hump. 

June found us in the Lorraine sector where we got 
a real taste of warfare. 

Cannon roared day and night. Something told me 
I'd never come back. 

I was in the band. That sounds nice and safe, 
doesn't it? Well, it was a different story here; the 
good, old band saw plenty of action. In Lorraine, all 
we did was play for funerals, nine and ten a day for 
the boys in the Rainbow Division. All these funerals 
were held under big air battles. Our lives were con- 
stantly in danger. 

Presently, the boys were being killed and wounded 



154 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

so fast that they decided men were needed more than 
music. So they took our instruments away, gave us 
guns instead, and put us into the fight. 

With no experience at all, we just went into it. 
Boy, I sure was frightened. Like all the rest, how- 
ever, I soon got over it. I was out to get the Hun. 

They made us stretcher bearers. One grand job! 

The Boche never did respect the Red Cross. If they 
saw you carrying a wounded man, they'd shoot a one- 
pound cannon at you. The skunks are no good. 

I had to carry in many a bad case and I tell you it 
was heartbreaking. I've carried fellows in such pain 
that the sweat poured off them and I never heard one 
complain. So long as they were conscious, they'd be 
cracking jokes, or if they were suffering too much to 
talk, they'd lie still and smoke the cigarettes we al- 
ways tried to have for them. 

As a reward for good behavior, I was given one of 
the worst jobs in the army. Dispatch runner, deliver- 
ing messages to the front line. I was the Colonel's 
private runner. I used to go up to the front every day 
with him. How I used to wish he'd take better care 
of himself. He was too brave for me, but I got used 
to it after a while. 

One night, I had a very important message for Cap- 
tain Eddie Grant, formerly of the New York Giants. 
That was the last time I saw him; he was killed later 
in the Argonne. 

After crawling along, ducking shell, I finally reached 
him. A piece of shrapnel hit me, breaking my leg and 
putting a hole clean through. 

My wound was so bad that the only thing that saved 
me from having my leg amputated was a transfusion 
of blood from another Buddy. Though I did my best, 
I never could find out who he was. Gee, I'd like to 
know his name so I could try to thank him. 

While I was lying on the field, a gas shell dropped 
near me and I got a dose of mustard gas in my lungs 
that is still affecting me. 

Dying for a drink, I lay out on the field two hours 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 155 

before I was picked up. I stuck my head in the mud 
to try and get some water. Meanwhile shell were 
dropping all around me. 

Finally the shelling stopped, someone heard my 
groans and soon a Ford came along. A fellow jumped 
out, told me to put my arms around his neck, and 
lifted me into his car. There were three other boys 
in that car, all raving mad. 

When we reached the first field hospital, they jabbed 
me with a needle and I lay there till another ambu- 
lance took me to the field hospital. There I had the 
best thing in months, a real white bed, and my first 
warm bath since leaving home. 

Next we went to the Chateau-Thierry field hospital. 
When I opened my eyes there were two Huns car- 
rying my stretcher. I think if I'd had a hand grenade, 
I'd have thrown it at them. 

For fourteen weeks I was in a hospital in Paris, and 
then went to Blois where my name was posted on the 
bulletin board to leave for Brest. 

The day we boarded the ship for home, was the 
happiest day of my life. I was sea sick all the way 
back but that was a minor detail. When I passed the 
Statue of Liberty, I felt like hugging the old girl. 




PRIVATE JOSEPH SISENWEIN 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 157 

III. 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 

ENGINEERS, ETC. 

SEVENTY-SEVENTH DIVISION 

Private Joseph Sisenwein 

Co. C, 307th Infantry. Sent Camp Upton September, 1917. 
Assigned the 77th Division. Fought in Lorraine sector, Fis- 
mes, in the McHise Argonnc offensive. Was wounded in the 
Argonnc. 

His Own Story 

Registration Day, June 5th, I answered the call to 
the colors. 

Before long, I faced the medical board for exami- 
nation. Out of about thirty that were examined, I 
was the first to be congratulated on passing physically 
and waiving exemption. On September 30th, off we 
went to Camp Upton. 

Upon discarding my "civies," I donned the khaki 
and was placed with the infantry. Seven months of 
my training took place in this branch of the service. 
The training consisted mostly of bayonetting German 
dummies, hiking, exercising, bombing, target shooting, 
gas attack drilling, and infantry manouvering. 

February 22nd, the "Camp Upton Boys," as we 
were known, paraded down Fifth Avenue. The 
crowds lining both sides of the avenue, were amazed 
to see men who were civilians only seven months pre- 
vious, transformed into such an army. They mar- 
velled to see raw material changed into snappy soldiers 
in so short a time. This parade was our "Farewell 
America," and the cheers of the crowds were the best 
encouragement that could have been given us. 

Finally, on April 5th, 1918, at four a. m., we were 
ordered to empty the straw from our mattresses and 
pack up. We were all restless that day, awaiting the 
final command to pull out of camp. 

About midnight, we received our emergency rations 



158 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

of hash and hardtack. At two a. m., April 6th, the 
orders, "Attention, count off !" were given, and out 
from camp we hiked with full equipment. In addi- 
tion, each soldier was given one hundred rounds of 
ammunition. 

So began our Great Adventure. 

We didn't know where we were going, and what's 
more, we didn't care a whoop. Continually, we sang, 
"We don't know where we're going, but we're on our 
way." Most of us thought our next stop would be 
Camp Merritt for ten days, but instead, we boarded the 
British transport Justicia ; about five thousand troops 
were jammed in. 

It may be of interest to note that the ship that 
brought us over was sunk on its way back to the States. 

Toward dark of the same day we boarded her, the 
gigantic transport stole out of the North River with- 
out anyone on shore being aware of the fact. Many 
a soldier was so close to his home he could almost see 
the windows, but all last "Good byes" were denied us. 
We were kept well under cover until the transport was 
a good ways from sight of the Statue of Liberty. 

For twenty-four hours, we sailed north along the 
Atlantic coast, till we reached Halifax. From the 
decks we could still see traces of the Halifax dis- 
aster. 

Our convoy consisted of nine more transports, mak- 
ing the necessary balance of strength, and away we 
sailed to a strange land. Battleships, destroyers and 
cruisers were within sight most of the trip. We cer- 
tainly felt secure with such wonderful naval pro- 
tection. 

Nothing unusual occurred on our voyage across the 
"big pond." Things were especially pleasant for me as 
I was made the captain's orderly. Of course we slept, 
drilled, and ate with our life preservers on. If one 
was caught without it, he was liable to a court martial. 
"Abandon ship" drill was held twice a day. 

Two days before arriving, it snowed in the morning, 
later turned into hail, and by noon it was raining. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 159 

Still later the sun shone so brightly that in an hour, 
everything was dry. I've never seen such startling 
weather. 

On my twenty-fourth birthday, April 19th, 1918, we 
arrived at Liverpool. We went through England rap- 
idly, made a short stay at Dover, and then, one bat- 
talion at a time, we crossed the Channel in an old tub. 
We were all lucky to arrive safely as we missed three 
floating mines, and on the way back, the boat was hit 
by a mine and blown to pieces. 

We reached Calais, April 21, 1918. We claim to be 
the first National Army Division to land in France. 

At Calais, I had my first taste of war. We were at 
"rest camp," when our captain, John H. Prentice, now 
a major, D. S. G, gave us a speech about air raids. 
He said, in part, "Boys, it all depends upon the weather 
tonight. Personally, it looks as if we were booked for 
a raid tonight. Be prepared, for God's sake stay in 
your holes, and don't come out until the attack is over. 
You," pointing to me, "are on blanket detail. Should 
any soldier be wounded, carry him in a blanket to a 
place of safety." 

As if the captain had been a mind reader, at nine 
p. m., while each squad was in its respective hole, I 
heard the buzzing of motors overhead. Suddenly the 
sky opened up and the Jerries dropped aerial bombs 
that shook the ground like an earthquake. French 
searchlights played across the sky, trying to spot the 
enemy planes, while anti-aircraft gunfire was opened 
toward the sky by French gunners. This tumult 
lasted about three hours, then eight planes, now out of 
ammunition, were forced to retire to their lines. Two 
were brought down by the accuracy of the French 
gunners. However, much property damage was done. 
Luckily, no casualties occurred as we were quite will- 
ing to stick to our holes, and the bombs fell about 
five hundred yards from our section. 

For the rest of my life, I shall remember our warm 
reception, that first day in France. 

At Calais, we turned in our American rifles for 



160 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

British ones, we also received British gas masks and 
helmets. We soon learned the reason for this, we were 
to be attached to the B. E. F. (British Expeditionary 
Force). 

Our tour of France then began. We left Calais and 
entered our forty hommes or eight chevaux cars, in 
other words, these cars were intended to accommodate 
forty men or eight horses. In the States we call them 
box or cattle cars ; they move about as fast as a mule. 
As a rule, troop trains move very slowly. After twen- 
ty-four hours of shaking up in these cattle cars, we 
arrived at our destination and hiked ten kilometers to 
a village where we were billeted. Some of the men 
were billeted in stables after chasing the horses out, 
some in chicken houses, and others where pigs had 
been kept. 

Now we were about forty kilometers behind the 
Belgian front. After three weeks intensive training 
with the B. E. F., we packed again for another hike 
and ride. This journey brought us to the Arras front. 
We were held there as reserves for the British, mean- 
while keeping up our intensive training back of the 
lines. A company of Americans and three companies 
of British troops trained together as a battalion, under 
the instruction of a British major. 

A three weeks' hike followed. We sang as we hiked 
over the dusty roads of France. Singing always 
seemed to make our packs lighter. We were known 
as the "Singing Division." 

For military reasons, we never hiked through a town 
or city in the day time but always waited for dark. 
We passed more towns and villages than I have hair 
on my head. Our field kitchen went astray and was 
lost for a few days, along with our mess sergeant and 
the rest of the "greaseballs." We had to sponge on 
other companies for our "chow." 

We were now ten kilometers from the Lorraine 
front. I picked up a circular, dropped from a Boche 
plane. "Good bye Rainbow Division; good luck," it 
said. "Hello, Seventy-seventh ; we're ready for you." 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 161 

On our way to the trenches we met the fighting 
Sixty-ninth. The road was pitch dark and it meant 
death to light a match. So a series of greetings were 
exchanged, such as, ''Who's from Harlem?" "I'm 
from Brooklyn." "Any of you guys from Yorkville 
or the Bronx?" "Say, Buddy, don't forget you're 
from New York. Give 'em hell ! We'll see you at the 
Marne, so long." 

I will never forget June 20th, the first day in the 
front line trenches I was put on post No 5 where I 
found two Americans and a Frenchman. I relieved 
the two Americans of the Forty-second Division, and 
they said, "Don't worry, Buddy, you're as safe here as 
you would be in Times Square." 

I didn't know how truthful they were but anyhow, 
I was kind of shaky and nervous, but by the third day, 
I was over that. I had great confidence in my French 
comrade and that helped a lot. I grew so curious to 
get a peep at No Man's Land that I stuck my head 
over the trench. Click, Click, Click, whizzed the bul- 
lets over my head. The Frenchman excitedly warned 
me to keep my head down unless I was tired of carry- 
ing it around. 

The three days in the trenches were quiet because of 
the heavy rain spell. But the fourth day was quiet 
and I had a hunch something was going to happen. I 
was then relieved and put in the second line trench. 

I am now going to tell you of my experience in my 
first attack. 

June 24th, I was on Gas Guard near my officers' 
dugout. In case of a gas attack, my orders were to 
ring the bell and also grind away on the Claxon or 
Siren. I was put on guard at two A. M. Half an 
hour later, I saw green and red flares shoot up from 
Fritzie's lines. That meant a gas attack and raid. All 
of a sudden the Fritzies let loose with high explosives 
and gas shell. I began to ring the bell and sound the 
Claxon. The alarm passed all along the line and to 
the rear. Everyone had his mask over his face, wait- 
ing for orders. Fritzie continued his shelling (5,000 



162 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

shell), from two thirty-five A. M. till five-thirty A. M. 
My officer signaled for an artillery barrage so we 
traded them some of our special brand of Hell in re- 
turn for what they were sending us. 

Next thing we knew, the Prussian Guards were 
coming over at us. All our rifles and bombs were 
thrown into action against the tide of the advancing 
Prussians. Our front lines and Communication lines 
were smashed. Our telephone system was put out of 
commission. Still the Boches could not gain an inch. 
A large number of our men were killed, wounded, 
gassed, and shell shocked. Six of our men were burnt 
to a crisp by the liquid fire the Germans sent against 
us. We held our ground. Gradually, after eternities 
of agony, the attack weakened, then ceased completely. 
Instantly with new strength, we pushed our advantage. 
The Boche line wavered then retreated. 

After the attack, a number of our men were de- 
tailed to bury the dead Prussians that were found near 
our lines. 

All was quiet, following that attack, and on June 
29th, another battalion relieved us and we went to 
Baccarat, fifteen kilos from the front to rest up and 
get a cootie 'scrub down. 

On July 4th, our company and a company of French 
soldiers held a parade through the town of Baccarat 
in memoriam of those who had fallen on the field of 
battle. 

After several days' rest, on July 8th, we returned 
to the support of the same front. Such propaganda 
as, "We will have dinner in Paris, July 14th," was 
thrown down from Hun airplanes. We were detailed 
to make dugouts, erect telephone wire system, and 
other minor details. Now and then we could find time 
to write a letter, and believe me, nothing was so wel- 
come as a letter from home. Many a soldier would 
rather have missed his "chow" than stop reading his 
letter, because it was from the U. S. A. 

By July 21st, we were holding the front line again. 
I was then a runner, delivering messages from the 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 163 

front to the rear. The boys called me Joe the Rat 
Killer, because often I mistook a rat, the size of a 
cat, for a Boche, and opened fire. 

I was also a pigeon carrier. That was very interest- 
ing. The pigeon's life was ranked higher than mine, 
as at all times the pigeon was to receive protection 
first. My duty was to carry six or eight birds in a gas 
proof basket on my trips to the front and if all other 
means of communication failed, the pigeons could be 
used as a last resort to deliver messages. Two of these 
birds would always be let loose at the same time, each 
carrying the same message, so that if one went astray, 
the other would reach the coop. The messages are in 
code and rolled like a capsule. This paper capsule is 
placed in a small tube that is attached to the inside of 
the bird's left leg. The pigeons are trained to reach 
headquarters from the front. 

On July 30 I safely guided part of the 37th Division 
(Buckeye) to the Lorraine sector front, and then the 
Seventy-seventh withdrew, after doing its bit for forty- 
five days. 

All kinds of rumors as to our next jump were on 
everybody's lips. The chaplain said we were going 
to "a place where we won't need any gas masks or 
helmets." Some of the boys bet two to one we were 
going to Italy; others surmised Russia. 

A ten-kilometer hike, a twenty-four hour box-car 
ride, another short hike, and we camped in an open 
field. We waited three days for orders. The sealed 
orders came, and we hiked a short distance till we 
reached a road lined with lorries (French Ford trucks), 
driven by coolies. They certainly could travel. We 
sped in these lorries several hours before we noticed a 
sign on the road reading, "This way to Chateau- 
Thierry." We all knew our destination then and were 
ready for open warfare. 

We stopped as support in the Belleau Wood. We 
helped bury the bodies of many Germans, Americans, 
and horses. 

Belleau Wood was stagnant with dead. 



164 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

On we moved toward the Vesle River. The Vesle 
sector was a slaughtering house. We advanced through 
heavy artillery and rear guard fire. We certainly had 
a hot time crossing the Vesle River. We crossed the 
river on a span of a sunken bridge that was struck by 
a G. I. C. (galvanized iron can). 

Our regiment is given credit for capturing the city 
of Fismes. 

After the capture of Fismes, we advanced in open 
order formation. Three days we advanced with a 
shovel in one hand and a rifle in the other. Do you 
know how the doughboy values his shovel? He will 
part with his hat, his rations, canteen, or even his 
souvenirs, but his shovel he cherishes only second to 
his life. It's his one great protection and he can't bear 
it out of his sight. 

During our advance we would "dig in" at night and 
lie in those "funk" holes several hours while the Ger- 
man artillery was giving us Hell. At the end of the 
third day, a front line was established on the outskirts 
of a town held by the Boche. After consolidating our 
front line, we were taken out and placed in support. 
While in support I was detailed to carry ammunition 
and food to the front. On those dangerous missions 
I had to duck many a shell. Water was very scarce 
in that sector. I remember filling my canteen one time 
in a creek where dead Germans lay. To add to the 
horror the water was filled with dead flies. Everytime 
I took a mouthful of water, I would spit out the dead 
flies. 

After several days in support, we were put in the 
front again. We gave the Jerries all we had, chasing 
them each day. While pursuing these Boche, we had 
to pass through their deadly artillery fire. German 
airplanes overhead spit a rain of bullets upon us from 
their machine guns. Also German machine guns had 
been placed upon the roofs of chateaux, and many a 
brave soldier was made a target. 

September 10 we were relieved near the Aisne River 
by an Italian division. I was still unwounded, though 



ECH OES FROM OVER THERE 165 

how I came through this last scrap is a miracle. I 
sure had a bunch of narrow escapes. 

We piled into French lorries, driven by French 
chauffeurs, on September 17, and drove twenty-four 
hours through rain to billets at Le Chather. Here we 
remained for a two-day rest. 

At one A. M. September 20, we were ordered to 
pack up, and without a change of underwear or socks 
for about five weeks, our thirty-mile hike to the 
Argonne began. 

Before the Meuse-Argonne offensive opened up, we 
were given ninety replacements. Now the company 
was again at full war strength (255 men). 

On September 26th, at two-thirty A. M. I heard the 
loudest noise any man has ever heard. 

The Allied drive that ended the war was opened. 
The sky turned red. Every gun that was on wheels, 
from French 75s to the great naval guns, just cut loose. 
The hills trembled ; Hell-on-Earth opened up. 

We dashed to the German support lines of the Ar- 
gonne, and we were there on September 29th. We 
took over the front lines at Depot de Machines, Octo- 
ber 3rd. 

The front lines consisted of "funk" holes in the 
depths of the deadly Argonne Woods. It was mid- 
night when my buddy and I entered our "funk hole" 
in the front line. The Germans were from seventy- 
five to a hundred yards away. After remaining all 
night in our hole, at six-fifteen A. M. October 4, my 
officer passed the word around for us to attack in 
a few minutes. With fixed bayonets my buddy and I 
went over the top at six-thirty A. M., acting as scouts. 
Our artillery did not send over a barrage for fear 
of killing our own men who were so close to the Ger- 
mans. Also they were afraid of hitting our men of 
the "Lost Battalion" who were surrounded. It was 
the mission of the scouts to break through the line of 
deadly German machine gun nests, and save the "Lost 
Battalion." 

On this trip I carried my combat pack of iron ra- 



166 ECH OES FROM OVER THERE 

tions," and blanket, 220 rounds of ammunition, a bag 
of eight bombs slung over my shoulder, an overcoat, 
shovel, rifle with fixed bayonet, gas mask, helmet, and 
canteen of water. 

The morning was hazy, with a fog in the distance. 
My advance was very slow, a step at a time. In fact 
I had to "swim" through the heavy shrubbery and 
bushes of thorns. We were warned to be careful of 
machine gunners placed in big trees. Each big tree I 
passed, I said to myself, "God be with me !" 

In an hour I covered about a hundred and fifty 
yards. All was quiet, no Jerries in sight. I "smelled 
a rat" when my advance was halted by barbed wire. 
The other scouts, on the same line with me, and I took 
out our wire clippers and were about to cut the wire to 
let the following platoons through, when suddenly 
the enemy opened fire with machine guns. 

The first to fall, hit in the knee, was Tom O'Rourke. 
I took the prone position, using a big stump for my 
head protection. The only thing for me to do was 
shoot for all I was worth. Meanwhile, the men back 
of me were on their bellies too. A battle royal was in 
progress. Every one of our rifles and machine guns 
was in action. We began to throw hand grenades, too. 
The Germans, only fifteen yards back of the barbed 
wire, threw their potato mashers (hand grenades) at 
us. When the bursts of fire from the German ma- 
chine gun nests stopped, I could hear the excited Ger- 
man commands. The machine guns in front and on 
the right of me were quiet, but the one on the left was 
still in action. 

Then at last I got mine. 

My entire body was shaken by a bullet that pene- 
trated the heel of my left foot. It felt as if someone 
drove a nail through and through my foot. 

Sergeant Quevdo and Corporal Ivins dressed my 
wound while the bullets whizzed over our heads. I 
was ordered to crawl to the rear. I crawled one hun- 
dred yards, then lay two hours on the battlefield. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 167 

When 1 was finally placed on a stretcher, I left a big 
pool of blood behind. 

While I was being carried to the first-aid station, 
a German sniper jumped out from behind a tree and 
opened fire with his automatic at the stretcher bearers 
and me. 

Luckily, the bullets missed us and I arrived safely 
at the first aid station, smoking a cigarette. 

At Base No. 18, I was operated on, forty hours 
after being wounded. Ten days later I was evacuated 
as a stretcher case to Base No. 24 at Limoges. When 
the Armistice was signed, I was still a bed patient, so 
was again evacuated as a stretcher case to Base No. 
22 at Bordeaux. Following fifteen successive days of 
rain in Bordeaux, I was sent to the States as a crutch 
case. 

After a month at Ellis Island, I was transferred to 
the Base Hospital at Camp Upton, my old home. 

I am now convalescing, and expect to be discharged 
in time to wear my straw hat. 

Thank God, this Summer's hat will be lighter than 
last year's "tin derby." 

P. S. — The German who sniped me has "gone west" 
and is now "pushing up daisies." My stretcher bearers 
killed him. 



PRIVATE GEORGE HART 



ECHOES FROM OVER THER E 169 

IV 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

Private George Hart 

Born in Ohio. Enlisted July 1, 1917. Assigned 83rd En- 
gineers. Overseas July 8. Cantigny, Chateau-Thierry. 
Wounded at the Mame. Good work of_ 38th Division, the 
Pennsylvania National Guard. Appreciation of Salvation 
Army. 

His Own Story 

Ohio couldn't hold me when this country went into 
the war. I felt that it was my war, and that I just 
had to get in it and help do the job. The German had 
been making a big noise about what a fighter he was, 
and I wanted to find out if he was as good as he 
claimed to be. 

I enlisted at Camp Sherman on July 1st, and on 
July 8th was on my way overseas. That's pretty close 
to a record for a quick get-away to France. 

My regiment was the first of the engineers to land, 
and we had our work cut out for us before we were 
off the ship. We had come to France primarily to 
fight and yet, for a time, it seemed we might as well 
be at work on road building in the States. 

But it came to us. 

We were moved up to Cantigny to get the roads and 
bridges in shape, for our First Division was due to 
go in there and try their teeth on the Hun. 

From there we slipped away and took the road to 
Chateau-Thierry, where our men were already fight- 
ing, though, of course, we did not know it at the time. 
The 7th Machine Gun Battalion of the 3rd Division 
(motorized) had rolled into Chateau-Thierry on the 



170 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

afternoon of May 31st. For more than twenty-four 
hours, they had been pounding the roads ; they had had 
no food in that time, yet they went immediately into 
action in the town, in support of the French Colonials. 
This unit was, so to speak, the ace of the machine gun 
outfits of our expeditionary force. Its gunners were 
sharpshooters with a machine gun, and the effect of 
their fire on the German troops was to slow down the 
advance at that point, and between our machine gun- 
ners and the French Colonials, the German failed to 
cross the river. 

I did not see that fight, but was in the town while 
we were on duty in that sector. From members of 
the Machine Gun Battalion who were in the fight and 
survived it, I had the story of the fight. 

The battle for the river crossing was fought to a 
finish in the town. The French troops were in the 
houses, on the roofs, and behind barricades. The Ger- 
mans also had got well in, and had machine guns and 
some field pieces in action. Fresh troops were con- 
stantly coming up to add weight to the German 
thrust, while the French, and the boys of the Third, 
had to stick it out with what they had. 

The town was on fire in places, adding to the heat 
of the day, and the black smoke afforded a screen, 
now to one side, and then to the other. 

Under cover of machine gun and grenade barrages, 
the Germans charged in masses again and again. The 
guns ripped them to ribbons, but a few men, borne for- 
ward by the mass behind, would reach a house or 
barricade. 

It would then be hand to hand. Houses were won 
and lost, won and lost. On roofs, in cellars, and 
through riddled dwellings the endless strife roared like 
a great conflagration. Men drilled through and 
through by machine gun or rifle bullets, fought on till 
they died, still fighting, from loss of blood. 

Up from the South, the rest of the Third Division 
was pressing on toward the river. The dust hung in 
clouds above the roads over which they marched to 



ECHOES FRO M OVER THERE 171 

their first taste of battle. They sent word before them 
to their battalion in the town, that the Division was 
coming to their aid, "hell for leather." 

"Hang on! Hang on!" was the battle cry of the 
gunners as they fought and died in Chateau-Thierry 
that day. 

Other units of our army were also converging on 
Chateau-Thierry. The Second Division, composed of 
Marines and Regulars, had passed Meaux, where they 
left the camions, and marched toward the fight. 

And we men of the Engineers were drawing near. 

From noon of the first of June, until way into the 
night, troops were reporting and being sent to their 
places in the line. After midnight, the Engineers 
reached the headquarters of Colonel A. W. Catlin. We 
had a few hours of sleep, and then with the first light 
of day, set to work helping to improve the defensive 
positions, where the men of the Second Division had 
been told to "hold to the last." 

Late in the afternoon of the second of June, I 
looked up from where I was working and saw the 
Huns coming. 

From the woods, the ground sloped toward the 
American lines. There were patches of brush, and 
then well tilled wheat fields where the grain was al- 
ready yellow. 

The sun was glinting on the enemy's bayonets and 
dancing in spots of irridescent fire from a thousand 
points in his equipment. 

The attack was made by two separate columns of 
troops whose movements were coordinated with that 
precision of movement in which the Prussian delights. 
The columns were deployed in platoon fronts. 

French troops had been screening the American 
lines. Before the German advance, the French fell 
back in ragged and dispirited skirmish lines, whose 
futile fire the enemy ignored. 

I lost for the moment all consciousness of danger, 
for I had become a spectator at a great motion picture. 

"Gimme a light, Buddie," the voice of a young 



1 72 ECHOES FROM VER THERE 

Marine broke in on me, and brought me back to earth. 
My hands were trembling as I fumbled for a match. 
My mouth was dry, my lips cracked. I tried to wet 
them with my tongue, but the very spit within my 
mouth had vanished. 

That is one of the strange things about this war 
business. I have thought a great deal about it since 
I came home, and could go back over times like this of 
which I write. The struggle between physical fear 
and spiritual courage that takes place in a man has 
queer reflections or reactions in his body. 

I peered down our line at the fellows crouching in 
their shell holes. As I recall it now, it seems to me 
that they were figgety as they poised on the rim of 
their first big action. 

The German attack was against a battalion of the 
Fifth Marines commanded by a Major, or Colonel, 
Wise. I forget his rank. 

Our guns held their breath. The rifles seemed to 
be seeking courage to lift their puny voices. 

I heard the veteran "non-coms" talking to the men. 
Their words came in staccato bursts. 

"Pick your men ! Fire low and slow ! Keep cool !" 

There was much swearing. 

From our rear, came a sudden rising burst of sound. 
For all the world, it sounded like the grandstand at 
Belmont roaring: 

"They're off!" 

A squall of shrapnel burst above the German 
platoons. 

The chatter of machine guns struck through the 
roar of the guns and the smash of the shell bursts. 
Rip ! R-i-p ! Brrrrr the rifles joined in the symphony. 

Where platoons had been marching bravely, a soli- 
tary man or two stumbled about drunkenly. The 
ground was heaped with writhing bodies. The pop- 
pies whose bright red faces dotted the wheat were 
watered with the wine of life. Sour wine to be sure, 
since it came from German veins. 

Three times the Huns tried it ; then sought shelter 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 173 

in the woods whence they had come forth so con- 
fidently. 

There our guns followed them, combing the thickets 
with shrapnel and H. E., to glean the last survivor for 
the grim harvest. 

How different had been the result from the charge 
of our men at Cantigny ! Yet there, the Germans were 
in greater force and better positions than we were at 
Chateau-Thierry. 

There was much joy among the Marines. 

The services of the Engineers were no longer needed 
at that place. We moved under cover of the dark. 

You may think I am overdoing it. 

Here's a clipping which shows what the Germans 
thought of it. It is the report of a Hun Intelligence 
Officer and fell into the hands of our men. It is 
official. 

"The 2nd American Division may be considered a 
very good division, perhaps even an assault division. 
The various attacks of the two regiments upon Belleau 
Wood, were executed with dash and intrepedity. The 
moral effect of our fire was not able to seriously check 
the advance of the infantry. The nerves of the Ameri- 
cans are not yet worn out." 

"Belleau Wood" — I stand corrected, for I have writ- 
ten of it, as at Chateau-Thierry. The 7th Machine 
Gun Battalion was at Chateau-Thierry. It was at 
BelleauWood, the fighting of the Marines took place, 
and where the Engineers helped construct the defenses. 
We fellows have got in the habit of calling the whole 
muss Chateau-Thierry. 

Things happened quickly after that; as well as be- 
fore it ; I may not get the exact sequence of events, but 
the dates are, I think, correct to the dot, for they were 
stamped in blood and not easily forgotten. 

The Germans had struck at the French Army of 
General Gouraud on the high ground beyond Rheims. 
A disastrous defeat for the Hun was the result there. 
His luck had changed. The Yankees had brought 
their baseball jinx with them, and the German staff 



174 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

had developed a glass arm. They put in a new 
pitcher, and his star ball was an attempt to straddle 
the Marne and flank our positions. 

This eruption broke out between Chatillon and Dor- 
mans, two towns on the Marne. 

The Third Division, bearing itself bravely in its 
first fighting, was in the line south of the Marne from 
Chateau-Thierry to Mezy, some eight kilometers east- 
ward, where between Chatillon and Dormans, the 
spear head of the German advance was across the 
Marne. 

To the south of Dormans, units of the splendid 
Pennsylvania Guard, the 28th Division, were well for- 
ward, with orders to stay where they were and hold the 
position at any cost. 

Upon these untried and inexperienced National 
Guardsmen, burst just such a storm as the Fifth Regi- 
ment of Marines had faced at Belleau Wood. 

There were not many of the Pennsylvania lads on 
the spot, and they lacked the balance in the ranks 
which the veterans and non-commissioned officers of 
long training in the Marines had given the Fifth. 

But they had been sent to France to fight, and light 
they did. 

If the men of the 38th were not sharpshooters, they 
were nevertheless well trained in the use of the rifle, 
and very, very many of them had been hunters from 
boyhood. They were used to the open, eager to try 
their mettle against the Hun, and their position was 
not so unfavorable, except for the fact that it needed 
to be held by more men. 

Here, too, I did not see the fight, but went over the 
ground afterward, when the Hun had been thrown 
back across the river. 

In that fight by the Marne, the boys from Pennsyl- 
vania established the reputation of the National Guard. 

The attack upon the Pennsylvania position was se- 
vere, sustained, and well supported by artillery, but 
it was met with torrents of rifle fire from the American 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 175 

line, from the shell holes, fox holes, and brush, where 
the men had taken cover. 

From that fight but a mere handful of men returned ; 
they came with laurel, however, for they had really 
stemmed the German tide, which was turned into a 
definite retreat as soon as other forces of ours could 
advance. 

It may have been the valor of inexperience the Key- 
stone Division men displayed that day, but they cer- 
tainly proved they could be relied upon in a desperate 
emergency to obey orders and die at their posts with 
the firmness of veterans. 

The place where they fought was a shambles, even 
when I saw it. 

It may seem that I have not written my own story, 
but of events of which I only know by hearsay. 

I do it for the reason that in all I have heard since 
I came home of the fighting in the Chateau-Thierry 
salient, I have heard nor seen no mention of the part 
played by the gallant 38th Pennsylvania, and I want 
to do them justice. 

As the Hun reeled back before the blows struck by 
the Second, Third, and 38th Divisions, and our men 
reached the Marne, the demand came to the engineers 
to bridge the river that the troops might cross to push 
their advantage. 

Certainly of all the unhealthy jobs I know of, with 
the exception of testing parachutes, that of an army 
engineer, bridging a river in the face of the enemy's 
fire, takes the palm, gold star, and all the other 
trappings. 

The north bank of the Marne was sown with ma- 
chine guns, manned by desperate men. On the hills 
back of the river, German guns were in position and 
making splendid practice against us. Our own artillery 
was trying to silence the enemy guns, while our own 
machine guns challenged the foe across the water. 

There I was wounded, and just managed to work 
my way back to the bank, where the Red Cross men 
got me and sent me back to the dressing station, from 



176 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

whence I traveled on to the rear, through different 
hospitals, until I found myself back in the United 
States. 

I had almost forgotten what is now perhaps the most 
important thing of all. The regular provision for look- 
ing out for us "over there" was supplemented by the • 
work of various relief organizations. They ajl did 
good work so far as I could see, although some 
preached too much and practiced too little. 

But the Salvation Army certainly were our friends 
from start to finish. 

No matter how rotten the weather was when we 
came tramping back from the trenches, how late the 
night, they were there to cheer us with the sweet kindly 
faces of their women, the brave, hearty companionship 
of their men, who understood us. They could get be- 
neath our skins and find out what ailed us. 

The fire of the enemy never stopped them and never 
seemed to worry them. Where strong men shook like 
leaves in a storm, the girls smiled and passed out 
food to us. 

The Army — I mean our fighting He Army can never 
never begin to pay its debt to the Salvation Army. 
They made good with us over there, and it's up to us 
to make good with them over here. 

The mothers and fathers, the wives and sisters and 
children of the boys who were in France can never 
give enough of money to the Salvation Army, enough 
of brotherly love to their fellow men to even approxi- 
mately even the scales. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 111 



V 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

Lieutenant Sydney Schoenfeld 

Born in New York City, January 19, 1894. Resides in New 
York at 854 Hezvitt Place. Rutgers College. Enlisted as a 
private in C. A. C. Overseas with 505th Engineers. Action 
on Toul front. Wounded Champagne front and sent to 
officers' school. Attached French 4th Army Staff as Intelli- 
gence Officer and commissioned Lieutenant. Croix de Guerre 
with palm for service at Hill 354. Wounded again and cited. 
Cited again on September 29. 

His Own Story 

I gave up finishing my college course to enlist as a 
private in the Coast Artillery on Decoration Day, 1917. 
The following December, I was sent overseas with the 
505th Engineers. Having been made first sergeant of 
Company C of that regiment after arriving in France, 
with about 85 men, I went to the Toul front to lay 
concrete emplacements for our big naval guns. 

We were making ready even then for the great St. 
Mihiel drive, which took place some months later, 
ahead of schedule time. On this work we were under 
fire all the time, losing many men and learning the 
serious side of war, for it is doubly serious to the 
Engineer. 

I was transferred to intelligence work, and sent to 
the Champagne where I was wounded in the left leg 
by a machine gun bullet. 

When I had made a full recovery I was sent to the 
officers' school at Langres, France, for a month and 
fifteen days, and then given a lieutenant's commission, 
and assigned to the 157th French Infantry Division, 
as an Intelligence Officer. This division was a part of 
the army of General Gouraud. 

Here I received the Croix de Guerre with palm, for 
the following piece of work : 



178 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

I was detailed to find out what troops were opposite 
us at Hill 354 in the Champagne sector, to the right of 
St. Menehould. Seven men of the Alpine Chasseurs 
were assigned me. While out, we encountered three 
machine guns and 17 Huns. Engaging them in combat 
with grenades, automatic rifles, and rifle grenades at 
short range, we at length carried the position under 
•cover of our own grenade barrage. 

Reaching the enemy first line trenches, we learned 
we had the 2nd infantry division of the German Army 
^before us. 

Three of us got back, by slipping from shell hole 
to shell hole. The men with me were also decorated. 

After this I was again very active in intelligence 
work on the front, and while out on duty was wounded 
a second time, this time in the hip, by shrapnel. This 
brought me another citation that gave me a gold star. 

After a little more than a month in the hospital, I 
was back with the French Army again. They had 
moved to the Marne along about August. We moved 
back quickly, however, to the Champagne front, and 
were there ready for the final drive. 

I was sent out with 37 men to a town called Han, 
where in 1915, the French had lost about 15,000 men. 

As our drive was to start the 28th, I had a couple 
•of days for intelligence work. 

At two in the morning of the 27th, we hit the 
enemy's front line trench wire entanglement. 

As the detail tried to work its way through, they 
set some bells to tinkling, and this drew the fire of the 
enemy's wire machine gun, so we lost fifteen men of 
the detail right there. 

When things had quieted down and our position was 
unknown to the Huns, I disposed my men in shell 
holes near the enemy's wire, and, alone, entered the 
front line trench through a gap in his wire, made by 
a shell. 

I came, then, upon a dugout in which were several 
men. The door was open and a candle burning. There 
was a man on post. He was taking twenty-five feet 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 179 

to complete his tour each time. I counted his steps 
three times till I had his beat by heart, and then, the 
third time when he came opposite me, I pulled my 
automatic and shoved it into the sentry's stomach. He 
was some surprised. 

Taking his rifle and motioning him to keep quiet, I 
drove him down the trench and through the wire 
toward where my men were waiting. 

Just as he was passing the last of the wire, the pris- 
oner let out a yell. I killed him immediately, taking 
his coat and hat, and rejoining my men, we began to 
work back slowly toward our own trenches. The 
Huns were thoroughly aroused, throwing up flares 
and raking the ground with machine gun fire, but we 
got ahead. 

Six more of the detail were killed on the way back, 
but the rest of us dropped over our parapet, and 
mighty glad we were to be back. 

Through the coat and hat I had brought back, we 
learned that the troops opposed to us were Prussian 
Guards. 

At 5 :45 of the morning of the 28th, the French 
attack was launched with great success. On our first 
day, we cut into the Boche for a distance of six kilo- 
meters, though the enemy gave us gas in clouds and 
had the front covered with machine gun nests. 

Two days later, I was taken before General Gouraud 
and decorated again for my work on the 27th. 

I was with the French Army of Occupation when 
we went to Strassburg, and brought liberty to the lost 
province. 

On January 25th, I was ordered home and very 
glad I am to be back in America again. 



180 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

VI 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

Private Louis Weinberg 

Born in New York City, May 1, 1889. With military police 
of 77th Division. 

His Own Story 

It is all too fresh and terrible yet, for me to care 
to put much of my experiences in France in writing. 

If there is any one outfit that sees all the rough edges 
of war, it is the Military Police. 

In the Vesle River fighting, I was on duty in 
Bazoches. That's the place where Al. Kauffman 
grabbed up a machine gun and running forward, placed 
it in an advantageous position from which to shoot up 
the Germans. 

Some time after Al. had his gun in position the 
boys heard him coming back to the place where most 
of them were fighting. He was climbing along the 
roofs of the houses crying: "For God's sake give me 
some more ammunition !" 

Fighting was going on right in the town. 

You know what that means. The bloodiest kind 
of work there is. Bayonets and butts at close quarters, 
grenades, all the devilish things for killing men when 
they have tied right into each other. A fight like that 
doesn't give the stretcher bearers and the hospitals 
any work. It is kill or be killed. 

The Germans, after their fashion, when their own 
men were fighting in a town with us, shelled the place, 
and a big H. E. struck the building where Kauffman 
was, killing him. 

Our casualities at that place were sickening. 

We had about 4,000 gas cases right there, while 
man after man went raving mad in that inferno. 

It was a long time before the fighting there reached 
a state where we could bury our dead, and when we 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 181 

did several of the men in our burial squad were killed 
by the explosion of bombs, the Germans had intro- 
duced into the bodies of the dead. 

After that we made the German prisoners handle 
our dead. I had heard stories about that, but did not 
believe it till I saw it myself, but it's true. After that 
I'll believe the Huns did run their own dead through 
a garbage plant to get the oils and salts. They'd do 
anything. 

At Fere en Tardenois, among the dead we found 
women dressed in German uniforms shackled to the 
machine guns. It was a common thing. I saw it many 
times. And chaining the men to the guns was done 
right along. 

If a woman complained to her neighbors about the 
death of her people in the war, or made some remark 
that offended the German authorities, she was sent to 
the front and put in a man's uniform and chained to a 
gun, placed in an exposed position. 

The same treatment was given male civilians and 
soldiers who were to be punished for some offense. 
Many Alsatian soldiers, forced into the German Army, 
died that way. 

The Germans always had other guns trained on these 
penal guns, and the poor devils chained fast never had 
a chance for their lives. 

These are the things you don't hear so much about 
any more, but they should be told and told again. 

We were into the third town from Sedan right on 
the heels of the retreating foe. There I found a knot 
of town people with a young French woman struggling 
in their arms. In the road was a small child dead. 

The woman was quite mad. 

She was one of the victims of the Hun, and had 
destroyed with her own hands, the moment the Ger- 
mans departed, the child in whose veins ran the hated 
blood. 

Those cases too were common. 

These are the things you people at home ought to 
hear about the war, whether vou like to or not. 



182 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

VII. 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC 

Private Larry Wolff 

Overseas with the 319th Machine Gun Battalion, Company 
A. St. Mihicl and Argonnc Forest. Wounded and gassed. 

His Own Story 

Within half an hour after the Sergeant's whistle, 
I was ready with my pack on my back, a sandwich 
in one hand, a cup of black unsweetened coffee in the 
other. Off I started from camp on a five mile hike to 
the waiting- trains that were to take us to a ferry 
boat that brought us to the ship "Corsican" on which 
we sailed for the other side. 

They gave us each a number and mine was No. 713, 
some unlucky number it was. 

They put me down at the bottom of the ship in 
a stuffy compartment with five other fellows. There 
wasn't enough room to swing a cat by the tail. 
Think of fellows being bunked in such a stuffy hole, 
against the boiler room that threw off enough heat to 
make a fellow sweat as though he were in a Turkish 
bath, and not be permitted to go on deck until the 
ship reached Sandy Hook. The first thing I did after 
getting permission to go on deck, was to rush up and 
inhale as much fresh air as I could. It gave me new 
life with which to battle with the storms our ship en- 
countered on this trip. We were among twenty ships 
and a convoy, and were on the submarine infested 
waters for eighteen days. 

We arrived at Liverpool, staying there two nights. 
Then we were sent to a rest camp to remain two nights. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 183 

It gave us time to wash up and put away a real chowie 
mess in jig time. 

There we had our first glimpse of the Hun. 

One was working on a coal pile and he gave us a 
sneering laugh that made our blood boil and put fight 
into our eyes. We were at this place only one night, 
when we received orders to leave at twelve the next 
day. We left the camp, marched until we came to the 
Liverpool station, and entrained for a dock at South- 
ampton where we boarded a boat that took us across 
the Channel. 

When we marched through the streets in France the 
people threw kisses at us. We certainly enjoyed these 
manifestations, but the moment word came we were 
to get some chow, you should have seen the way we 
braced up. Because you don't know what a fine dish 
corn willy or monkey meat with a few hard tack of 
the dog biscuit kind thrown in make for a fellow with 
a keen appetite. 

I got so I could eat nails and railroad spikes with- 
out much trouble, and I didn't have to take any lacto 
peptine to aid my digestion either. All the way we 
had been meeting new troops that came from Lord 
knows where, and with the assistance of one of my 
Buddies we were able to attach a few bottles of 
cognac which we drank in place of water. 

After getting acquainted with many rats and cooties 
that stayed at this place, we had to remain there a 
month. We were told after inspection by General 
Pershing that we were one of the best companies over 
there, and were expected to do our bit. You can 
imagine how we swelled up when the General praised 
our showing, and we never forgot those kind words. 

We were all on edge because we received orders we 
were going to the trenches, and after marching fifteen 
miles we came within two miles of the lines. Then 
we marched in single line formation and knew that 
we were headed for the front lines. 

The reason the single line formation was maintained 
near the front lines was because if a shell happened 



184 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

along, instead of killing five men, it would only kill 
two. 

As we drew nearer the lines a "Gi can" came threat- 
eningly near us. The explosion of this shell fairly 
lifted us off our feet. We continued to advance until 
we came to tne front line trench, where we got our 
first glimpse of the battlefield. The roads were strewn 
with dead and wounded and the sights were awful for 
a person who had never seen this before. We put up 
our machine guns at some place whose name I do not 
remember, and then we got orders to place a harassing 
fire at the enemy's front line. We were working on 
shifts, four on, eight off. It sure was muddy and 
rainy all the time. 

One day they picked me to give out the chow. We 
had two cans attached to a long pole slung from the 
shoulders of a couple of fellows. We walked for at 
least an hour, through barbed wire entanglements and 
shell holes, with bullets and shell all around us. It 
was no easy task for anyone without being a little 
shaky the first time. 

When we reached the kitchen, we got some stuff 
called "slum." It reminded me of painters' paste. 
When it got to my stomach it danced the Salome. 

We stayed there for a while until we went to an- 
other sector called St. Mihiel. Here we dug out ma- 
chine gun emplacements right near the statue of Joan 
of Arc. We dug these emplacements the night before 
the big barrage started. That was September 12th. 
We dug in all that night. It was raining and the mud 
was slimy as a fish. 

At midnight the following day, September 13th, we 
were posted at our gun positions, waiting for our or- 
ders to fire. In an hour, we spied an aeroplane over- 
head dropping red flares, which started the fireworks 
going. 

The big guns soon sent their warning to Jerry's 
front line. From one-fifteen in the morning till six 
o'clock the following night, the guns fired steadily. 
Our aeroplanes were dropping bombs on Jerry's front 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 185 

line trench. Bullets and shell slaughtered the Boches 
as they ran from their rat holes. We advanced so 
fast that it was hard to keep up with the infantry. 
Town after town, village after village we captured. 
Dead and wounded lay all over the roads. 

In one town we took a warehouse of the Ger- 
mans; in it we found bread, raw cabbage, and beer. 
"I'll tell the world" we sure did have some feast, and 
believe me, Buddy, we needed it. 

We broke the wonderful salient of the Germans. 
Undoubtedly this was one of the telling blows of the 
great war. 

After a few days' rest, we went to the Verdun sec- 
tor. We got up there in little Ford cars; we were 
motorized. We arrived about six a. m. We must 
have shown fire, for as soon as we got off the machines, 
Jerry began sending "Gi cans," whizz bangs, etc. This 
kept up at least two hours. 

Right here I had a little experience, and I can't 
see how I escaped being killed. For protection from 
the bursting shell, I ran under a bridge. Standing in 
water up to my knees, I was covered with mud, cold, 
and hungry. Jerry must have known we were under 
that bridge, I was standing in among a few fellows, 
when a shell hit a Buddy of mine and he fell into the 
stream. Yet I, who stood right beside him, escaped 
injury. I don't understand it, but those are the mys- 
terious things that happen in war. 

From the Verdun sector we worked our way into the 
Argonne Wood. 

We crawled up a little trench, the snipers sending 
their bullets past our face and ears. However, we 
kept right on going; "carrying on," we call it Over 
There. 

This trench was covered with German dead. The 
scenes here were too horrifying for me to describe. 
Even the sky seemed soaked with blood, it was so red 
from the bursting of the heavy shell. 

Our objective was Hill No. 170. As we were creep- 



186 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

ing along on our hands and knees, I got a little touch 
of gas, mustard gas I believe it was, as it burned me. 

Soon after, I felt a stinging pain in my leg and 
knew that I was hit. 

My Buddies carried me to the rear for treatment. 
I was put on a hospital train and sent to Base Hos- 
pital No. 47 at Boehm. I also contracted influenza 
and pneumonia and I sure thought I was going West. 
However, the treatment I received saved me. From 
October 17 to December 8, I lay there, then I was 
sent to Hyers in southern France to convalesce. 

Every one treated me wonderfully, and I can never 
express how deeply I appreciated it. I sure do thank 
the Red Cross and I'll always remember the wonder- 
ful work of the Salvation Army lassies. 

I stayed in southern France a month, and then went 
to Bordeaux where I received my sailing orders on 
January 4th. This day was also my birthday, and 
that sure was a wonderful present to receive. 

Aboard the S. S. Wilhelmina, we docked at Ho- 
boken, Sunday, January 20, at noon. The Red Cross 
and Salvation Army gave us cake and hot coffee. 

I sure was happy to be back in God's country again, 
after going through such experiences. We walked 
through the streets to the cheering of the crowds. 

At Camp Upton, on February 5th, I received my 
honorable discharge. 




SERGEANT MAX WICKER 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 189 

VIII. 
THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

Sergeant Max Wicker 
Born in New York City. Drafted September 17, 1917. Camp 
Upton. Boxing instructor. Overseas April, 1918, with 307th 
Infantry. Service with B. E. F., Flanders, A. E. F., Alsace, 
Chateau-Thierry Salient, Vesle River. 

His Own Story 

September 17th, 1917, I was drafted into the serv- 
ice, and was sent to Camp Upton where I stayed six 
months. I acted as boxing instructor, and therefore 
was promoted to sergeant. 

I was one of the twenty-five men sent out of this 
camp to obtain subscriptions for the Second Liberty 
Loan. We were successful enough to get $1,250,000 
worth. 

On April 16th, 1918, we left on the Lapland for 
overseas. We took thirteen days to get across. On 
the ship we were told that we were being fed rabbits, 
but I discovered it was not rabbits we were eating, but 
sea gulls. 

One night, the captain and I approached a man do- 
ing guard duty who was studying the sea through his 
glasses. "What are you looking for?" I asked him. 

"Submarines, sir," he answered. 

"How do you expect to see a sub on such a foggy 
night as this ?" 

"I thought maybe it would have lights on, sir," was 
his reply. 

We finally docked at Liverpool, the boys feeling 
homesick already. Then we went to Calais, France. 
Crossing the English Channel was one of the worst 
things we experienced ; it was worse than the ocean. 

Then we started for rest camp. That sounded fine ; 
we thought we were in for a good night's sleep. But 
we soon learned our mistake. We were billeted in 



190 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

tents, about twenty-five to a tent, and the first night 
we had a glimpse of war. Some Hun aeroplanes 
swooped down and dropped bombs between the tents. 

"So this is rest camp !" hollered some of the boys. 

"Rest camp," answered others, "hell !" 

We spent three restless nights there and were mighty 
glad to get away. With visions of a comfortable pull- 
man, we hiked for the train. 

Suddenly, about twenty-five of us found ourselves 
stuck in a box car with a lot of cows. We couldn't 
decide which was most uncomfortable, the cows or us. 

That ride lasted four days. Some of the boys aged 
ten years in those four days. 

When we were dumped out, some thought it would 
be fun to take one of the cows, but most of us ob- 
jected because we had eaten so much bully beef we 
never wanted to see a cow again. 

Without washing or cleaning up a bit, we started on 
a hike to a Flanders rest camp. After covering fifteen 
miles, we reached the camp where we remained a few 
days. 

Then we hiked for the Flanders front. On the way 
we fell out for about ten minutes. We were ordered 
not to drink from our canteens as water was very 
scarce. We were told that any man that touched 
water out of his canteen would be court martialed. 
Not long after, I noticed Private Panafillio drinking 
out of a canteen. As he was sitting right beside me, I 
balled him out. But he flatly denied that he was dis- 
obeying orders, and kept laughing. Finally I discov- 
ered the joke. It was my canteen he had been drinking 
out of. 

After we hit the reserve in the Flanders front, we 
were trained by the British in modern warfare. Here 
we got an idea of what civilization had come to. Every 
town from there on that we passed had been bombed 
by aeroplanes and cannon since 1914. 

All the officers had to go to the Flanders front for 
observation for a few days. While there I saw things 
I can never forget. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 191 

A little Canadian was pumping a machine gun over 
the German lines, he was always cracking jokes, never 
serious. Suddenly a whizz bang hit the trench, bury- 
ing us all. When we scrambled out of the dirt and 
debris, we found the little Canadian that had been 
laughing a minute before with half his skull torn off. 
He was still conscious. 

"Say, Buddy," he whispered to his pal, "do you 
think I'll ever see my mother again?" 

"Sure thing," his pal answered. "You're going 
home on a furlough now." 

Next we were moved to the American sector in 
Alsace-Lorraine. When we finally hit the front lines, 
we got plenty of gas which killed a few of the boys. 

While on a patrol with a lieutenant, a sergeant and 
three' privates about three-thirty one morning, the 
German sentries sighted us. All of a sudden, hell 
opened up all around us. It was a box barrage. 

"My God !" cried the lieutenant. "They've got us." 

To add to all this excitement, a fellow hollered, 
"Gas," and we had to put on our gas masks and run 
about a hundred yards to our trench. Luckily, the 
barrage lifted and we came through all right, except 
for our clothes that were ripped to shreds. 

About two-thirty another morning, the Germans 
came over and raided the 307th Infantry with liquid 
fire. One of my pals was burned to death ; two other 
boys who witnessed this attack are maniacs for life. 
Now that it's all over, I marvel not so much that I 
was not wounded as that I came back sane. As it is, 
I know that the things I saw over there will haunt 
me all my life. 

There are more rumors around a camp than in a 
small town. We heard at different times that we were 
going to Italy, Honolulu, and Russia, all over the 
world in fact. Finally, our colonel announced that 
before the end of the week we were to see some heavy 
action. 

The following morning, there were over a thousand 
motor cars, driven by Chinamen, waiting for us. 



192 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Jammed into these cars, we rode for many agonizing 
hours before we hit Belleau Wood. 

All the frightfulness of war seemed concentrated 
here. Thousands of baskets of German ammunition 
were strung through the woods, left behind in their 
retreat. Everywhere you looked you saw dead bodies. 
It was a common sight to see boys buried with their 
feet sticking out of the ground. 

When we got our tents up it was so dark I couldn't 
see my hand before me. I went into my tent and called 
to the Buddy who was to share it with me. He didn't 
answer, but while I was feeling around in the dark, 
I suddenly touched a human arm. Of course I thought 
it was my Buddy. I was worried because he didn't 
answer, so in order to see what was the matter with 
him, I did something forbidden. I lighted a match. 

There between two trees sat a Boche, his gun point- 
ing straight at me. For a second I was absolutely 
paralyzed with terror. It looked as if I hadn't a 
chance. Then all at once I saw that his wide open 
eyes were glazed, and knew that he was dead. 

However, though a dead Boche is a good Boche, I 
didn't quite care for him as a bedfellow. So, out went 
the match, I grabbed my stuff, and out went Max, too, 
to bunk with some other fellows for that night. 

Next morning one of the fellows tried to get the 
gun out of the German's hand, but could not move it. 
He had to cut the whole arm off. 

From Belleau Wood we went to a town near the 
Vesle River and there the fireworks started. Our or- 
ders were to go straight ahead regardless of the cost. 

I was gassed slightly but was able to keep on. But 
in the next barrage, a shell burst within a few feet of 
me and knocked me out for twenty-four hours. 

I was taken to the first aid station at Chateau- 
Thierry. After recuperating, I was attached to the 
hospital as boxing instructor and physical director. 

Eventually, the doctors decided to send me home so 
I sailed on the Leviathan, landing in the blessed old 
U. S. A. on Februarv 11th. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 193 

IX. 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC 

Corporal Alan V. Streat 

Of New York, March 26, 1917. Enlisted in 7th N. Y. 
Trained Wadszvorth. Overseas May, 1917. Service in Fland- 
ers and Picardy. Battle of Knoll and other engagements. 

His Own Story 

I enlisted in the U. S. Army on March 26th, 1917, 
in the old Seventh Regiment. For eight months at 
Camp Wadsworth I trained for overseas under Eng- 
lish, French and American officers. 

On May 10th we sailed for France on the Antigone, 
an old German freighter. The trip across was not ex- 
citing. Once, we had a submarine scare, which was a 
scare and nothing else for the sub proved to be a keg. 
We knocked it to pieces in about five minutes. 

Finally after fourteen days we sighted Brest where 
the Antigone lay for one day, and then we landed, 
the 25th of May. 

We immediately went to a rest camp about five miles 
out of Brest, and the next morning hiked back to 
Brest and entrained in side-door pullmans. We de- 
trained at Noilles, and from there went to Morlay, 
where we took up intensive training under British 
officers. We hiked all over the country after that, and 
in the beginning of August, landed at Steemvoorde, 
in Flanders. At that time, I was attached to Battalion 
Headquarters, Second Battalion, 102nd Regiment. 

One day another fellow and myself were detailed 
to carry some important papers from Steemvoorde to 
Abeele, where regimental headquarters were located. 
We were both on horseback. While passing through 
the main part of the town, two shell landed some 200 



194 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

yards away, just off the road. We decided to wait 
a few minutes and try to time the shell. We waited 
about ten minutes, then as no more shell came, we 
again mounted and started at a brisk trot. Just as 
we were passing the main square, two more shell 
landed directly in front of us, demolishing two houses, 
and throwing my companion off his horse. I stopped 
immediately to see if he had been hit, and found him 
O. K. We remounted and galloped on to headquar- 
ters. 

Another funny coincidence happened, while we were 
galloping down the road. W r e passed a fellow, lying 
in the middle of the road and over his head an English 
Kitchen Dixie (a kettle to boil things in) which he 
was evidently using for protection. I yelled at him, 
as we passed, telling him to follow us back to camp. 
He arrived soon after we did, scared, but none the 
worse for his experience. 

On August 10th, we went into the front lines, in 
front of Mt. Kernel, in the Scherpenberg sector, where 
we were put to stem Prince Ruprecht's army of Huns. 
They had been massed there preparatory to a drive 
to the sea to get Calais. 

The third night in the lines, proved to be the most 
exciting we had in that sector. About three o'clock 
in the morning, both our side and the enemy's started 
strafing each other. It was there that we had our 
first death, as our artillery fire fell short. We were, 
therefore, getting it from both sides. I was standing 
in a corner of the trench, when a small shell, prob- 
ably a whizz-bang, exploded about ten feet away from 
me, a piece of it piercing the back of the head of a 
fellow, another piece piercing the man next to me in 
the hip. 

Probably the fact that I was standing partly covered 
by the corner of the trench, saved me from getting a 
piece of the shell. 

After a ten-day stay in that sector, we went back 
into the reserve, another regiment of the Division came 
up to take our place. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 195 

After being out three days, I was sent to a hospital 
with internal trouble. I remained at the hospital for 
about three weeks, and then rejoined my regiment at 
a town called Beauquesne. 

On September 26th, we entrained for Guillacourt, 
where we arrived the next day. That night we hiked 
up in front of the Hindenburg line, and on the morn- 
ing of the 29th, we went "over the top," engaging in, 
perhaps one of the biggest battles of the war, known 
as the "Battle of the Knoll." This was located in a 
sector between Cambrai and St. Quentin, where a 
canal ran through a tunnel. This canal had been 
drained and made into dugouts, each of which had 
about five or six entrances, causing a lot of trouble 
for us in the matter of capturing Germans, because, 
as we would go into one entrance, they would retreat at 
the other side. However, we gained our objectives, 
and the next morning the famous Australians com- 
pleted our job, so for the time being, we went back to 
our reserve. 

When we arrived at the rear, I was again sent up 
to the front, with a detail of four men, on a burial 
party. 

This party was under charge of Father Kelly, the 
Division chaplain, who deserves all the credit possible, 
for his wonderful work throughout the war. 

We buried approximately one thousand Ameri- 
can dead, the result of the "Battle of the Knoll," 
but there were three times as many dead Germans. 
We did not bury the Germans, but just covered them 
up. The Americans were buried in the best way pos- 
sible. We wrapped them in burlap, and put them 
four feet deep down in the ground, and placed a 
wooden cross over the grave. Where possible, small 
cemeteries were kept. 

I rejoined my outfit on October 23rd at St. Souplet, 
where they had been relieved by a British division. 
We then went back for our much needed rest. 

Then we proceeded to Blangy. We were located in 
that town when the armistice was signed. We were 



196 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

due to go into action on November 15th, but as the 
armistice had been signed, we entrained for Tuffe, 
where we arrived the day before Thanksgiving. 

On January 1st, I was detailed to Division Head- 
quarters and was attached to the Division show. The 
name of this show was, "Let's Beat It." 

Well, to make it short, we reached the "States" on 
March 4th, on board the Leviathan and I was honor- 
ably discharged on April 14th. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 197 

X. 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

Sergeant Sidney Ettinger 
Born in New York, August 7, 1888, and lives at 29 West 
117th Street, New York. National Army, 307th Infantry, 
77th Division. Served with the Division in France. 

His Own Story 

Now I am not going to tell you much about myself. 
I did not do anything remarkable and I think my ex- 
periences were about those of any other young fel- 
low in the Division. 

But I saw many things that thrilled me then and do 
yet, many things that made me sad then and still fill 
my heart with pain, for the often gallant and useless 
sacrifice of life, for of course there were mistakes 
made now and again, times when the Hun outguessed 
us, though never a time when he outfought us, I'll 
tell the world that. 

There was the time for instance when Captain Blan- 
don Barrett was killed in the Vesle sector. He went 
over the top in a daylight raid with sixty men and 
none of them came back to us. The captain and some 
forty of the men were killed, while the rest were 
taken prisoners. We had nothing to show for that 
day's work except a bloody memory and a score to 
settle with the Hun. We settled it, too, I'll say we 
did. Settled it in his own blood at the rate of more 
than a life for a life, but it didn't give our comrades 
back, and apparently the Hun has learned nothing. 

We saw some stiff fighting on the Verdun front and 
as we were carrying on, under heavy shell fire, I was 
struck in the arm, leg and shoulder by shrapnel and 
gun shot. 



198 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

The same shell that got me got my buddie and they 
picked him up with a sponge, poor devil. 

Patrol work was the lively stuff. We'd work right 
into the German lines, particularly after the fighting 
was in the open, then we used to filter in through his 
front and hang around till we'd manage to kill a sen- 
tinel, strip him of his clothes and stuff, when we would 
work back to our lines, if we could. 

That is the best way to get information about what 
is going on in front of you. 

I wish you could have seen the boys of the Seventy- 
seventh go into action, as I saw them go, smiling and 
chaffing each other, rolling their own and lighting 
them, never showing any fear and yet knowing all 
the time what confronted them. 

They were fine, too, at the Meuse. We had to come 
down the steep slope of a small knoll to get to the 
water where the engineers were working like mad un- 
der frightful fire to throw a bridge across. 

Up to their necks in water they were fighting with 
the current and heavy, awkward boats while machine 
guns, rifles and shrapnel were beating the water to 
foam about them. 

They got the things across, too, and out we went 
on them in the teeth of that fire, officers ahead. 

But the Boche practice was too good, they cut the 
bridge in two and drove the men back from the water. 

It is no joke being spilled into a river with a sixty- 
pound pack on your back and 220 rounds stowed away 
on your person, to say nothing of a miscellaneous col- 
lection of souvenirs for your girl and friends back on 
Broadway. 

But I said I was going to tell you about the boys 
and I am. There was a fellow by the name of "Fly" 
Gilbert who belonged to the Headquarters Company of 
the Regiment. He is Benny Leonard's brother, I 
think. At any rate some relation. 

The Huns raided us one day and after their fashion 
used liquid fire and all they had. One of our fellows 
was badly burned and fell out between the lines. This 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 199 

chap Gilbert went after him and brought him back 
to us, though he was badly wounded in the act. 

He was cited for that and he earned it. 

There was another boss chap with us and that was 
Eddie Grant. Grant was some soldier and a mighty 
good captain. We certainly loved him. There was 
much real sorrow when he "went west." 



BROOKLYN BOY CITED 

American Expeditionary Forces, July 24th, 1918. 

From Assistant Division Adjutant Forty-second Divi- 
sion to Sergeant Wm. Maloney, Company E., 
165th Infantry. 

I am directed by the Division Commander to inform 
you that your conduct on the occasion of July 18th, 
1918, in subsector Taupiniere, Champagne, when with 
three of your men you did voluntarily take up a posi- 
tion, where you knew that the enemy was present in 
force and you were in danger of being surrounded 
and you covered the withdrawal of your platoon to 
their position, during which time you saw about sixty 
of the enemy advancing toward your platoon's posi- 
tion, and immediately carried back this information 
to your platoon commander, has been brought to his 
personal attention, and he considers your performance 
of duty on this occasion worthy of his highest com- 
mendation. 

He regards your action in the face of the enemy, gal- 
lant and an example to your comrades in arms, and 
characteristic of that splendid standard upon which the 
traditions of our military establishment are founded. 

(Signed) James C. Thomas, 
Captain and Adjutant General. 

Tom Maloney lived in Brooklyn, brother of Patrol- 
man Michael E. Maloney, and employed by the Bush 
Terminal Company. — Editor. 



200 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 



XL 

THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 
EIGHTY-SECOND DIVISION 

Sergeant Victor Vigorito 

Better known as "Johnny Victor." Bom and lives in Brook- 
lyn, and zvell known in sporting circles as a boxer. Trained 
at Gordon, and assigned 1st Battalion, 325th Infantry, 82nd 
N. A. Division in which were about 5,000 Brooklyn boys. Tout 
sector, St. Mihiel, Norroy, St. Juvin, Argonne Forest. Di- 
visional citation for "great bravery and devotion," October 15, 
1918. Wounded. 

His Own Story 

Like the rest of the boys, I went in as a private, but 
what I had learned in the ring soon brought me pro- 
motion, so at Camp Gordon I was made first a cor- 
poral, then a sergeant, and became bayonet and boxing 
instructor. 

Presently, I was assigned to the First Battalion of 
the 325th Infantry, a part of the Eighty-second Divi- 
sion, commanded by Major General Duncan. A good 
soldier I'd say he was. 

The Eighty-second was practically a Brooklyn Divi- 
sion for it had on its rolls the names of fully 5,000 
Brooklyn boys, and let me tell you they made good 
over there. In addition to the 5,000 from Brooklyn, 
the rest of Greater New York contributed about 3,500 
more to us. The balance of the Division was southern. 

Of military life, practically none of us knew any- 
thing, although most of the southern boys knew how 
to use a gun, while the city boys could use their 
"dukes." A pretty good combination, I'd say. 

We followed the Seventy-seventh Division to 
France, crossing even before the Twenty-seventh. We 
were proud of our work that had enabled us to be 
sent to France so quickly, and prouder still when we 
became the sixth American Division that was trusted 
to go it "on its own" organization. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 201 

In April we crossed the "pond," and we landed in 
England where the 325th Infantry, my regiment, had 
the honor of parading, and being reviewed by King 
George, who struck us as a jolly little sport. 

We wasted no time in England, but hurried right on 
to France to take up the job we had come for. _ On ar- 
riving in France, we turned in our American rifles and 
were issued English rifles, gas masks, and some other 
odds and ends of equipment, necessary for troops who 
were to be a part of the British Expeditionary Force. 

Having familiarized ourselves with the new guns 
and masks, we moved up to the Somme front near Ab- 
beville, for our first smell of German powder^ 

We were soon in the fight, not as a division; but 
companies and battalions went into the line with Brit- 
ish troops who were badly shaken after the great Ger- 
man drive in March. The fighting here was very 
fierce, and tried the spirit of the new troops thor- 
oughly, for the Germans were swollen with the pride 
of victory and sacrificed men regardless. The first 
severe casualties came to us when some of the 326 
were set repairing broken wire entanglements under a 
heavy German shell and machine gun fire. The men 
did the job, though they were butchered while doing 
it. Our hearts were filled with bitterness, for we had 
seen our own brave dead, and had no real chance to 
settle scores with the Hun. 

In that experience is the key to the small number of 
prisoners reported taken by the Division. Officers and 
men, less than a thousand prisoners were taken by the 
Division. We went into battle after this experience 
on the British front, with the maxim, "the only good 
German, is a dead one." 

The Hun had made the big mistake of bleeding us 
too much in our first fight. He had thought, perhaps, 
to discourage us and break our nerve, instead he had 
us hot for revenge. 

June 15th, we moved to the Toul sector, and only 
eleven davs later we were sent in to relieve the Twen- 
ty-sixth Division, the Yankees, who had seen hard 



202 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

fighting in the Chateau-Thierry sector and were in 
sore need of rest and replacements. 

War now came to us with a vengeance. We had a 
long stretch of front to hold by ourselves. The enemy 
was active and aggressive, and we were there to pun- 
ish him. 

Patrol work gave us a great opportunity. 

The southern boys certainly snowed up like stars 
in this work, and by sending city men with them, the 
whole gang soon learned how to creep out in the dark 
and stalk a German patrol or listening post. It got so 
finally, that our men would slip out on their own hook, 
stalk a German, kill him with a trench knife, and 
bring his helmet or cap for a trophy. Oh, boy! It 
was some sport. 

Trench raids were our meat, too. You know how 
they go. The artillery sneak up a bunch of guns and 
get them all registered on a few hundred yards of 
German trench. The men who are to make the raid 
are given plenty of opportunity to look over the 
ground so they'll know it in the dark. Zero hour 
comes along. 

Whoop ! A box barrage comes down on Mr. Hun, 
cuts him off from retreat, and prevents reinforcements 
from getting up. 

The raiding party nurses its bombs and grenades in 
eager hands, makes sure the knives are loose and ready 
to hand, and then springs over the top ; stumbles along 
toward the German line, rips its clothing to pieces on 
the wire, cut by the shelling, loses a few men in the 
crossing, — to whet its appetite for the slaughter, — 
takes a deep breath, and springs into the enemy's first 
line, stinking of fresh spilled blood, greasy with the 
flesh spewed all over by the shell. 

A German officer comes running along. An auto- 
matic sticks out a tongue of pinkish yellow fire and 
acrid gas. The Hun crumples. 

Some one is crying: "Kamerad ! Kamerad !" The 
fellow does not show himself, and we are just natur- 
ally suspicious. They give him a grenade and he stops 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 203 

his bleating. Meanwhile parties of Huns have been 
cornered in the dugouts. The officers look the dug- 
outs over and figure out how many men will be in 
them and then : 

"Four." 

"Six." Or some such number is spoken quietly. A 
sergeant steps forward and counts out the required 
number of pills (H. E. grenades). The men fall back 
the least bit, and the grenades are tossed into the dug- 
outs. 

The party runs right over one fellow who is hiding. 

An officer speaks up quickly. 

"Don't give it to him ! Take him back, a couple of 
you. We'll see what he knows." 

A quick search follows for papers or anything that 
will give us valuable information. 

Then back we go. 

Going back it is lively, for the Huns have opened 
up on the ground we have to cross, and in the trenches 
to the right and left of the raided sector, the men are 
alert and throwing up flares. 

We duck, dodge, creep, crawl, and finally get back. 

A few of the boys have got it on the way back, but 
we have brought them along. 

The Big Fellow up at G. H. Q. looks over the re- 
port and a smile lights up his grim old face. 

"Pretty good stuff in the Eighty-second ! Send 
them along with the First and Second ! They can 
travel in fast company." 

On the 9th of August, we are on the move, just in 
time to miss a big gas attack. 

We go to Pont-a-Musson and relieve, — just think 
of it — the Eighty-second relieves the Second Division ! 

We spit on our hands and squared our shoulders 
then, I'll tell the country. 

The Second had put the fear of the Americans into 
the hearts of the Hun, and it was comparatively quiet. 

Then on the 12th, old John Joseph Pershing just 
says to the Eighty-second : "Go and get 'em. That's 
what vou came for!" 



204 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

I don't mean to say, he said that to us in person, 
but he said it all right in his orders, — only in military 
language, you know, all dressed up for the histories. 

They told us, our officers did, before we went in, 
that this was the first time the Americans had gone it 
all alone. They told us we came over to win the war, 
and this was our chance. They told us, not to let the 
Huns get away from us, if we had to run our damned 
legs off. 

In we went ; and did what we were told to do ; and 
then some. For five days and nights, we never 
stopped. Of course, the same men were not fighting 
all the time, but the Division was, and the relief any 
bunch got was only a few hours, then they would be 
at it again. 

I'd like to describe that for you, but I can't seem 
to do it, yet, it is so confused, as though you had been 
in a glorified riot for five days and nights. You 
couldn't describe such a thing. 

We took Norroy, and I'd say that was some fight. 
German aeroplanes flying around overhead firing at 
us with machine guns ; the Huns in the town blazing 
away. 

Well, we took the town. But we lost a bunch of 
guys there. Now and then, we took a few prisoners, 
but we had no time for any la-de-da business with 
the Huns. Mostly, they got the bayonet or grenade. 
We strewed the ground with them plenty, — I'd sav we 
did. 

Having done so well at St. Mihiel, G. H. Q. decided 
to give us a rest, so they sent us to the Argonne For- 
est. The rest consisted of relieving the Twenty-eighth 
Division, establishing a new position by taking a cross- 
ing of the Aisne near Appremont, and then pushing 
along with our battle line astride of the Aisne. 

There was some great killing pulled off there, both 
by the Germans and ourselves. We sent several Ger- 
man divisions to the rear with the very life whaled out 
of them, while the numbers of our men were so re- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 205 

duced that two regiments must be united to make even 
one small one. 

Each day our orders were the same. 

"Push steadily on, regardless of the cost. Hold 
what you take, and keep up with the enemy." 

The orders were obeyed, though our men fell by 
hundreds. The Division was being annihilated, but 
those of us who were left never thought of quitting; 
we were killing too many Huns each day to think much 
about what was happening to us. 

It seemed we had been battling for years, when we 
reached a place called St. Juvin, which according to 
"Intelligence," the Boche was supposed to give up 
without an argument. Instead, he had dug in like a 
woodchuck, got the guns of half an army to support 
him, fresh troops to maul us, and allowed he'd have 
it out with the 82nd, once and for all. 

We had to have the engineers bridge a river, we 
then crossed and formed under fire, then attacked our 
objective. The engineers got the bridge down, though 
it almost floated in their own blood. We got two com- 
panies and part of a third across, then the Huns gave 
us Hell. We lost about 280 officers and men in a few 
minutes. It was the worst piece of wholesale murder 
I saw in the whole war. 

And no ground gained. 

They figured out another way to try it again, and 
while still holding the first crossing, we moved down 
and got across at a ford, from where we fought our 
way through machine gun nests into a position w r here 
we could outflank the nests holding up the first 
crossing. 

We had to take prisoners at that time, for they came 
so thick and fast we did not have time to kill them, 
and we needed all the information we could get, for we 
knew no more about the country than we did about 
Central Africa. I was wounded on the 15th. 

Just what the boys went through in the final cam- 
paign can best be seen by the following laconic excerpts 



206 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

from Colonel Whitman's story of the 325th Infantry, 
82nd Division: 

82nd Div. U. S. 
Field orders 10 Oct., 1918. 

No. 23 23 Hours. 

Map:Bnzancy 1/20000. 

"1. a) The enemy has been driven north of the line 
S ommerance-Saint-Juvin-Grand-Pre . Saint-Juvin is 
reported evacuated. 

"b) The First Corps attacks at 7 hours, 11th Octo- 
ber, 1918, on its present front. 

"2. The 82nd Division attacks at 7 hours, 11th 
October. Direction of attack due North, 
"a) Boundaries of attack: 

Right, East : Sommerance (exclusive) Sivry- 

les-Buzancy (exclusive) ; 
Left, West : Marcq (inclusive), Saint- Jitvin 
(exclusive), Verpel (exclusive), Ther- 
morgues (exclusive), Harricoiirt (inclu- 
sive), 
"b) Objectives : 

Intermediate objectives : Imecourt-Champig- 
nuelles-Grand-Pre. Halt of one half hour 
will be made on this line for the purpose 
of re-organization and movement forward 
of Artillery; 
First objectives : Sivry-les-Buzancy (inclu- 
sive), Verpel (inclusive); 
Divisions advance to the first objective in- 
dependently and will be prepared to ad- 
vance to the Corps objective at 13 hours; 
Corps objective : Sivry-les-Buzancy (exclu- 
sive), Thermorgues (inclusive). On reach- 
ing this line exploitation will be carried 
out to the front and contact kept with the 
enemy. 
"3. a) The 328th Infantry is temporarily attached 
to the 163rd Infantry Brigade and the 325th Infantry 
is temporarily attached to the 164th Infantry Brigade. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 207 

"b) Battalions that are to lead the attack in each 
Brigade will be moved north of the Aire river before 
daylight. Crossing will be covered by strong patrols. 

"c) 163rd Brigade will attack between the West 
boundary of the Division and Meridian 98.5 and the 
164th Brigade between the same Meridian and the East 
boundary of the Division. 

"d) Battalions will be formed up for attack by 
5 hours, on the North bank of the Aire river and on 
the line Sommeranc e-po'mt 98.4-84.5. 

"e) Tanks. — Five tanks will support the attack. 
The tanks will assemble, during the night, on the 
main road, 2 kilometers north of Fleville, and will 
move forward with the Infantry, deploying across the 
front of the Division as the Infantry moves forward. 
Should Infantry discover machine gun nests, officers 
will place a helmet on a rifle and with it indicate to 
the tank operator the direction of the machine gun. 

"f) Artillery. — To keep harassing and interdic- 
tion fire in front of the advancing Infantry, and to fire 
on all towns and important cross roads and special 
targets. Artillery liaison officers with Infantry Com- 
manders will keep Artillery Commanders constantly 
informed of the Infantry positions. One regiment of 
75 m/m Field Artillery to be assigned by Artillery- 
Brigade Commander will support the attack of each 
Infantry Brigade. One forward gun will accompany 
each front line Battalion. Artillery observers will 
move forward with the advance Infantry line for the 
purpose of directing fire of supporting batteries. All 
Artillery will open fire at "H" hour and will pass 
under the control of the Artillery Brigade Commander 
as soon as the action stabilizes. Full advantages will 
be taken of the open terrain for advancing by echelon 
of the supporting Artillery. 

"4. Liaison : a) Strong Combat liaison will be 
maintained by Brigade Commanders with the 5th 
Corps on the right and the 77th Division on the left. 



208 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Liaison will be established and maintained between 
Brigades. 

"b) Telephonic communication will be maintained 
down to advance Battalions. 

"c) Axis of Liaison : FlevilleS aint-J uvin-S aint- 
Georges-Imecourt-Buzancy. 

"5. P. C. 82nd Div., without change; 
P. C. 163rd and 164th Brigades to advance with attack ; 
P. C. 157th F. A. Brigade Montblainville. 

"G. B. Duncan, 
} "Major General U. S. A. 

"Commanding. 

"Note. — One battalion of each the 327th and 328th 
Infantry will be held by respective Brigade Com- 
manders as Division Reserve. They will move for- 
ward with the attack under the direction of Brigade 
Commanders." 

Observe that the orders say (a) "The enemy has 
been driven north of the line Sommerance-Saint-Juvin- 
Grandpre." As a matter of fact we know now that 
he was south of that line for we ran into him before 
the Sommerance-S aint-J nvin road was reached. 

b) "S aint-J uvin is reported to be evacuated." Far 
from being evacuated it was a hot bed of German 
machine guns and was not taken until Oct. 14th. We 
received the hottest kind of fire from it all during 
Oct. 11-12-13 and part of the 14th, 

c) "325th Infantry Eastern boundary Meridian, 
99.3. Western boundary Corps Western boundary." 
This was obviously a typographical error, as the Corps 
western boundary was many kilometers away. The 
dividing line between Brigades was known to be 98.5 
so it was evident that our sector was about one kilo- 
meter wide between 98.5 and 99.3. This left 500 
meters from our left to the Aire river that should have 
been filled by the 163rd Brigade. 

For some reason that Brigade did not cross the river 
and there were no troops in that gap until our own 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 209 

Machine Gun Company and Company "F" were 
thrown in to fill it. 

d) "Jumping Off place will be Sommerance-Saint- 
Juvin road." We pushed ahead fast to get to this road 
on time expecting it to be in the hands of friendly 
troops. Unfortunately the Boche beat us to it. He 
was entrenched along it. 

e) "Tanks will support the attack." None appeared. 

f) "To each Regimental Commander six 75,' are 
assigned, etc." None reported. 

We were confronted with the problem of getting to 
the jump off at 5 a. m. The distance was about 4 
kilometers by road. No fords had been found by our 
patrols; the leading battalions were widely dispersed 
over a front of two kilometers ; the night was dark ; 
no reconnaissance had been allowed for; time was 
short. 

It was decided not to waste precious hours hunting 
for fords over an unknown river on a black night. 
There was a foot bridge of some kind under construc- 
tion at Fleville. That was selected as the point of 
crossing. The 3rd Battalion which was at the Regi- 
mental P. C. was at once started. Rush orders were 
sent to the 2nd Battalion to assemble and follow. The 
1st Battalion was in Brigade Reserve to follow at 3 
kilometers. The Regimental Machine Gun Company 
accompanied the leading Battalion. The men worked 
their way through the dark forest and forded the river 
in single file, using the foot bridge as a guide only. 
Daylight found us still a kilometer and half from our 
position and it was evident that the Sommerance road 
could not be reached by 5 o'clock. By pushing ahead 
fast, however, it was hoped to make it by 6 a. m. and 
to jump off at 7. 

It was intended to place the 3rd Battalion on the 
jump off; the 2nd battalion in support and the 1st in 
reserve, thus making 3 echelons. The column was 
urged to make haste and its head was approaching the 
jumping off place by 6 o'clock, when it was fired upon 
from its right and from direction of its line of march — 



210 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

several men fell. Co. "M" was in the lead followed 
by Co. "I," and Co. "L." Co. "K," it will be remem- 
bered, had been detained in its original position. 

As fire of snipers and Machine Guns now became 
hot, the men were thrown into the ditch on East side 
of the road. The Regimental and Battalion Com- 
mander worked forward to the Sommerance road to 
reconnoitre. A survey of the situation showed no 
friendly troops in sight. In front on a ridge and to 
the right on high ground, there were many snipers and 
machine guns. Artillery now opened on the road in 
which the Regiment lay. . It was now 6:45. To get 
into position for the Corps advance at 7 hours it was 
absolutely necessary to deploy to the right front, inas- 
much as the head of the column lay near the Meridian 
98.5 and our sector extended one kilometer to the East 
to 99.3. No deployment could be made until the 
Boche was dislodged from our right flank. Rush 
orders were sent to the two rear companies "I" and 
"L" to break off to their right and send a skirmish 
line with its left near the main highway to sweep the 
ground of the enemy. This was successfully done. 
As the line passed the jump off road, Co. "M" joined 
and at 7 :20 the Regiment moved forward, — 20 minutes 
late. It was assumed that the Corps attack had started 
on time at 7 hours; so we pushed on to ridge 85.5. 
This ridge was heavily protected by enemy wire and 
had a sunken road along its top, that ran due West 
into Saint-Juvin. No troops were on our left. Saint- 
Juvin was full of Germans who raked our left flank. 
Our 37 m/m and Stokes could not keep up. No tanks 
appeared. No 75 m/m guns reported. No friendly 
barrage proceeded us. 

One platoon of M. G. Co. was placed East of the 
main road to support advance of Co. "I." One platoon 
covered advance of Co. "M." One platoon used in- 
direct fire over heads of our advancing troops. They 
moved forward with the assault battalions and lost 
heavily. 

Liaison was established along 85.5 with the 327th 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 211 

Infantry, but at 11 hours the C. O. of that Regiment 
notified our Regimental Commander that he was with- 
drawing about one kilometer. Meanwhile our 2nd Bat- 
talion which was following in support advanced toward 
Sommerance with Co. "E" in front followed by Co. 
"G." Co. "F" was thrown in to fill the gap between 
us and the 163rd Brigade. Co. "H" was detained in 
Fleville by the Brigade Commander for police work. 
The Battalion Commander sent word that the 327th 
was falling back through his line. This was reported 
to the Brigade Commander who directed me to hold 
the ridge at all costs and added that the 327th would 
be ordered forward again. The 3rd Battalion was 
found to be left in a salient with both flanks pounded 
by Machine Gun fire. Its losses were very heavy. 
The situation was serious. Call was made for the Re- 
serve Battalion to come up. Co.s "B" and "C" arrived 
at 11 :30 and were placed below the crest to resist any 
threatened counter attack. Co.'s "A" and "D" were 
sent by the Brigade Commander to reinforce the 327th. 
The Colonel of that Regiment dismissed them, saying 
he was withdrawing. They then came over to the 
325th Headquarters and were then thrown in on the 
ridge. 

Four enemy counter attacks were made during the 
day but none of them were in sufficient force to drive 
us back. Prompt response from our artillery was 
made to our call for a barrage. Our own artillery fire 
fell short in the attempt to break up these counter 
attacks. Our men, therefore, withdrew until the fire 
ceased when they advanced again to their positions. 
This occured twice. 

The hours of the Boche counter attacks are shown 
by record of following messages : 

"11:45 to C. O. 3rd Bn. 

"Have requested fire from our own artillery on ridge 
85.5 be raised immediately. When our barrage lifts 
be prepared to take the ridge. It must not fall into the 
enemy's hands. 

Whitman." 



212 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

"1:45 to C. O. 3rd Bn. 

"Barrage because of counter attack has been called 
for on ridge 85.5. Do not withdraw from ridge except 
to prevent barrage from falling on you. The enemy 
must not be allowed to hold the ridge. 

Whitman." 

"2 : 00 P. M. to C. O. 3rd Bn. 

"At 2 : 30 our artillery fire will stop. After that the 
ridge must be reoccupied. The troops will advance no 
farther than that. They must dig in for the night. 
These orders are peremptory. 

Whitman." 

"17:10 C. O. 3rd Bn. 

"No troops are to be withdrawn from the ridge 
without orders from me. The ridge will be held to 
the last. All company commanders have been notified. 

Whitman." 

Night found us as follows: The 1st and 3rd Bat- 
talions rather badly mixed, held the ridge 85.5, about 
one kilometer front. The 2nd Battalion was outpost- 
ing the right of the 164th Brigade line near Sommer- 
ance. Our patrol from this battalion found a gap of 
over one kilometer between the 82nd and 42nd Di- 
visions. The latter was well to our right rear. No 
connection could be made with the 163rd Brigade, on 
our left, until after dark, when one battalion of the 
326th crossed the river and filled the gap. 

During the day the following officers were casualties : 

Killed 

Capt. Chas. A. Fowler. 
Capt. Parley B. Christensen. 
Capt. Louis L. Battey. 
Capt. Lamar V. McLeod. 
1st Lieut. Farley W. Moody. 

Wounded 
Major Thomas L. Pierce. 
Capt. F. M. Williams. 
1st Lieut. R. H. Rives. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 213 

1st Lieut. Julian F. Livingstone. 
1st Lieut. James A. MacFarland. 
1st Lieut. Raymond R. Goehring. 
2nd Lieut. John O'Brien. 
2nd Lieut. William J. Ehmer. 
2nd Lieut. John I. Guice. 
2nd Lieut. Oliver M. Perry. 
2nd Lieut. Henry M. Edwards. 
2nd Lieut. Arthur H. Bormann. 
2nd Lieut. Frank H. Taylor. 

No doubt could remain in the mind of the most 
skeptical of the fighting qualities of the regiment. The 
men showed the greatest bravery in face of galling 
machine gun fire. The officers were totally regardless 
of their personal safety and led the men with utmost 
heroism. 

The Regimental advanced dressing station was estab- 
lished where the first casualties occurred. There was no 
time to seek a safer place. Over 200 casualties were 
evacuated this day under direction of Major O. O. 
Feaster who with his assistants worked 20 hours under 
fire. 

About 150 prisoners were taken, 20 machine guns 
were captured. During the night rations and water 
were run up by Capt. M. H. Patton, Operations Officer. 
In regard to the surprise fire from region of Saint- 
Juvin and from our right, it was recalled that the 
Division Field Order, No. 23, stated: "The enemy 
has been driven north of line Sommerance, Saint- 
Juvin, Grand-Pre," and " Saint- Juvin is reported to be 
evacuated." No resistance w r as therefore contemplated 
south of that line. 

Oct. 12th. After a miserable and cold night at- 
tended with much artillery and gas, dawn found the 
command well dug in on ridge 85.5. No further attack 
was ordered by the Corps. The enemy made no dem- 
onstration against us. Advantage of the lull was taken 
to reorganize into 3 echelons as follows : 

Front line, 1st Battalion, ridge 85.5; 



214 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Support line, 3rd Battalion, Sommerance road; 

Reserve line, 2nd Battalion, Brigade Reserve. 

Co. "K" had been recalled from its former mission 
and rejoined its Battalion. 

At 16:20 hours word was received that the 42nd 
Division which had relieved the 1st had at last reached 
Sommerance. This released our 2nd Battalion which 
was then placed in Reserve in rear of the Sommerance 
road. 

In this connection it is worthy of note that the Corps 
Summary of Intelligence Oct. 11th, gave the enemy 
front line as 1.500 meters North of Sommerance. We 
found him on the Sommerance road well established, 
with snipers still further South of the road. 

The Supply Company was ordered to run the 
kitchens up to Fleville and prepare hot food. Capt. 
J. B. Connally was put in charge of this work and 
thereafter kept the Command well supplied. 

The 327th was now established on our right flank 
and the 326th on our left. German planes were very 
active on this day observing our lines. 

A reconnaissance of the positions showed that in 
front of us there was a succession of ridges, between 
which small ravines ran west into the Champigmtelles 
valley toward the Aire river. Each ridge was combed 
by German machine gun fire and the reverse slopes 
warmed up by his artillery. The men could not put 
their heads up without drawing a whirlwind of fire. 
It was plainly a case of calling for a heavy rolling 
barrage before an advance could be made. 

One platoon of the M. G. Company, remained in the 
ravine near the cross roads and covered the troops on 
ridge 85.5. One platoon was pushed to the top of the 
ridge and supported the 1st Battalion. 

Oct. 13th. No Corps attack. Our lines were ar- 
ranged in combat groups. Ammunition and rations 
and water were brought up. Enemy planes were 
active. Our M. G. Company remained on ridge 85.5 
and supported the 1st Battalion in its position there. 

The Stokes and One Pounders were now up and 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 215 

in position on the ridge. Except for moderate artillery 
fire from the enemy, nothing occurred until 16 hours 
at which time the Boche made an attack on our right 
and on the left of the 327th Infantry. He opened 
with very heavy artillery fire. This barrage rolled 
over the 2nd Battalion and covered the men with mud 
but by some miracle no one was killed. Our artillery 
in response to call, laid down an effective counter 
barrage which must have broken up the enemy as his 
infantry did not reach the crest. Our men reported 
that Germans could be seen throwing down their rifles 
and running back. The 325th Infantry reverted to the 
163rd Brigade. We remained on ridge 85.5. 

During the day, the following officer was a casualty : 
Wounded: Major Thomas L. Pierce 

Oct. 14th. Our lines remained unchanged. Capt. 
Castle succeeded to command of 1st Battalion. Capt. 
Melton succeeded to Command of 3rd Battalion. Dur- 
ing the night Oct. 13/14 orders came for an advance 
of the 1st Army at 8: 30 hours. Saint-Juvin had not 
been taken. This task was assigned to the 77th Div. 
The 1st Battalion, 326th Inf., on our left had not yet 
crossed the river, south of Saint-Juvin. It was ordered 
to do as soon as relieved by the 77th Division. The 
77th did not pass 326th at Marcq until 10 a. m. Oct. 
14th. The 328th was how on our right. 

It appeared from the map that we were already 
slightly in front of the 1st Corps objective and conse- 
quently could not go over until 10 hours which was 
the time given to the units to leave that objective. Our 
1st Battalion was in front, supported by the Stokes 
Mortars and 37 m/m. Our M. G. Company sent 6 
guns to leading battalion and 4 to the support. The 
3rd Battalion was in support at 1.200 meters. The 
2nd Battalion was held in Divison Reserve. Our 
artillery laid down a good barrage. The assault bat- 
talion followed it closely and gained \ l / 2 kilometers, 
reaching the road Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges and the 
crest immediately North thereof. Here it lost liaison 



216 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

with the 328th on account of our regiment being 
further advanced. The support battalion moved on 
time and the reserve battalion (2nd) advanced through 
enemy artillery fire in line of combat groups as if on 
drill. It is to be noted that the Brigade order of the 
164th Brigade said: "So far as known of plans of at- 
tack, the 164th Brigade will stand fast pending arrival 
abreast of it of the 42nd Division on its right." Not- 
withstanding this, the 163rd Brigade was ordered to 
plunge forward. Again the 325th found itself in a 
salient with no one on either flank. The position of 
the leading battalion of the 326th was given by its 
Major who was at 98.0-85.9 as being on road to our 
left. The story of this morning's operations is shown 
by following messages : 

"10:30. 1st Battalion started over the top as per 
schedule. No information received from front line 
at this time but rear waves of supporting battalion can 
be seen from this position. About 40 prisoners have 
passed through our hands. 

Castle." 

"10: 59. Reports show line advancing as per sched- 
ule. Prisoners are seen coming over the hill in large 
groups. Support battalion is now passing my P. C. 
I will move forward at once with my personnel except 
adjutant and establish new P. C. Everything looks 
roseate. 

Castle." 

"12:03. Have established new P. C. at 98.6-85.8 
in ravine. Front line is being held up. Meeting stiff 
resistance from ridge north of Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
Georges road. 3rd Battalion is away behind and 
should be pushed forward to our first objective and 
make preparation to resist counter attack. 

Castle." 

At this juncture instruction was sent to the support 
battalion as follows : 

"12:45 C. O. 3rd Battalion. Report positions of 
your companies. Castle is meeting resistance from 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 217 

ridge North of Saint-JuvinSaint-Georges road. Send 
forward to see if he needs support and put one com- 
pany in if necessary. 

Whitman/' 

He replied : 

"C. O. 325th Infantry, 13:20. Co. "L" extends 
right of leading Battalion of 326th which is halted on 
Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges road. Co. "L" is on the 
road from 98.1-98.4. Co. "K" from 98.4-99 on paral- 
lel 86.2. Co. "M" is 300 yards behind "L's" right. 
Co. "I" is 200 yards behind "K's" right. He pushed 
one platoon Co. "L" out 150 yards to cover the 1st 
Battalion left. The leading Battalion of 326th Inf., 
say they are ordered to hold this road. They are dig- 
ging in on it. Our Regiment cannot go on without 
putting left flank in air. 

Pierce/'' 

"14 hours, To C. O. 3rd Bn. Disregard distance of 
1.200 meters from 1st Battalion. Take up position on 
ridge in rear of Castle. Dig in and hold to the last if 
attacked. Get in touch with 328th Inf., on your right 
at once. 

Whitman/' 

Following came from the leading battalion of 326th 
showing it to be slightly behind our front line : 

"From C. O. 3rd Bn. 326th Inf., To C. O. 325th Inf., 
16:00. 

"Occupy road to your left and am under heavy 
M. G. fire from Saint-Jnvin, flank wholly unprotected. 
Will let you know of any change. 

Watkins." 

From personal observation of the lines, Major Haw- 
kins sent the following: 

"1. Our 1st Battalion has passed beyond observa- 
tion over ridge through parallel 86.8. 

"2. Our 3rd Battalion has 2 companies on line of 
road from about 98.3-86.3 to about 98.9-86.6, and 2 
companies in support on reverse slope about 400 
meters south east. 



218 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

"3. The 326th Infantry front line battalion has 
prolonged Major Pierce's line on the road leaving left 
of our 1st Battalion unprotected. 

"4. This Battalion will move East of Saint-Juvin 
as directed after reconnaissance. 

Hawkins/' 

"14:30. To C. O. 1st Bn. Good work. Hold what 
you have. The 326th has been ordered to push for- 
ward to cover your left, and the 328th to cover your 
right. Do not go too far ahead of your flanks. Pierce 
will support you. Give me exact position of your 
lines. Do you need ammunition and if so at what 

P ' Whitman/' 

"15 :45. To C. O. 325th. No change in dispositions 
since I wrote except that Company "B" 320th M. G. 
Battalion is placing guns in new support. Support 
Battalion 328th is on my immediate right. Every- 
thing standing still. I surmise waits on Saint-Juvin 
although "A" and U D" both wanted artillery on final 
objective awhile ago. Boche plane flying straight 
back and forth along our line, I think marking it for 
fire. None of our planes in sight. 

Pierce/' 

"15:50. To C. O. 1st Bn. The 326th has been or- 
dered to push forward to protect your left. Artillery 
has been called for 500 yards North of your position. 
Is 328th as far advanced as you on your right. Am 
sending ammunition to your P. C. Hold what you 
have until your flanks are covered. Fine work. 

Whitman/' 

Our Machine Gun Company followed 1st Battalion 

in its advance to the Saint-Jitvin-Saint-Gcorges road 

and took position there firing all during the day. 

The day ended with following messages : 

"C. O. 3rd Battalion requests me to inform you that 

friendly artillery is holding 1st Battalion up at 98.6- 

86.5. __ 

Hawkins. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 219 

"15:07. 1. The 1st Battalion is still held up in 
same place as mentioned in message of 1 :55 this date. 
"D" Company reports short of both kinds ammuni- 
tion. Suggest details from Reserve Battalion be sent 
in sufficient numbers to carry 7.000 rounds each kind 
rifle and chauchat to each Company. Enemy planes 
have been driven off by our planes but not until they 
had done serious damage. 

"2. "D" Company reports heavy losses. "B" Com- 
pany is now in their front line. Request C. O. 3rd 
Battalion be instructed to place 2 companies in sup- 
port of my front line on the Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges 
road at once. I have instructed my companies to dig 
in for the night. Request artillery fire heavy barrage 
for 10 minutes at intervals of 50 minutes and haras- 
sing fire between times during entire night. 

"3. 326th Infantry stopped on Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
Georges road and say they have instructions to go no 
further. Our flanks are held up and exposed Our 
front line extends 98.2-86.5 to 99.2-86.9. 

Castle/'' 

Night fall found us well north of Saint-Juvin-Saint- 
Georges road and dug in utilizing shell holes for the 
combat groups. Men were tired and wet and cold. 
Casualties very heavy. 

Two Stokes Mortars and 2 Pounders were placed 
near the Saint-Juvin- Saint-Georges road and were 
used against the Ravine Aux-Pierres and woods north 
thereof. Stokes fired 300 rounds. Pounders fired 850 
rounds. 

Rations and water were brought up at night but it 
was a difficult matter to get them distributed to the 
men. Details were sent to the cross roads for food 
but it was a slow process under shell fire. Many men 
had lost their raincoats and overcoats. A cold per- 
sistent rain reduced their spirits — the shell holes were 
deep in mud and water. It was a time that called for 
the best stuff in every officer and man. 

Our positions had undoubtedly been thoroughly 



220 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

studied by enemy planes during the day. Our front 
battalion was conspicuous on the ridge North of the 
main road ; its flanks were unsupported. The position 
was an exposed one, facing a very strong position of 
the Boche. 

During the day the following Officers were casual- 
ties: 

Killed. 

1st Lieut. William P. Spratt. 
1st Lieut. Norman A. Garrett. 
2nd Lieut. George W. Huston. 

Wounded. 

Major Thomas L. Pierce. 
1st Lieut. J. H. Thompson. 
2nd Lieut. Everett Shepherd. 

Oct. 15th. Daybreak came with a misty rain and 
orders to attack with the First Army line at 7:30 
hours. The information given stated "The Kremhilde 
Stellung has been breached by the 82nd Division." 
The 325th Inf., being as well advanced as any other 
unit in the Division, must be given its full share of 
credit in the breaking of this famous line. 

The barrage was scheduled to start at 7:25 at a 
point 300 meters in front of the jumping off place, and 
to be held there for 5 minutes ; after this it was to 
advance for 1.000 meters and then cease. 

This is interesting to remember in view of what 
developed later. 

It almost seemed as if the enemy had seen our or- 
ders. 

Our formation was the same as the day before, 
i. e. 1st Battalion in assaulting line ; the 3rd in support 
at 500 meters. The 2nd Battalion was designated to 
be Division Reserve and to remain near cross roads 
98.1-85.0. Our M. G. Co. was relieved by Co. "C" 
320th M. G. Bn. and was sent to join Division Re- 
serve. Our Stokes and Pounders remained in place. 
The unexpected happened ; the Boche attacked first, 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 221 

before "H" hour. The testimony from men of the 
leading battalion is to the effect that their outpost line 
was in scattered shell holes on the crest overlooking 
the Ravine Aax Pierres. 

At 7:00 the Boche laid a barrage of artillery and 
then of machine guns and followed the latter closely 
with a line of Infantry. The attack appeared to be 
stronger against the 328th on our right ; but close in 
front of "D" and "B" Companies the Boche placed 8 
machine guns. Our outposts were held in their holes 
by the intensity of the German fire. The enemy ad- 
vance was not stopped by our own barrage which 
was due to commence in about 15 minutes. 2nd Lieut. 
T. W. Walker, of Co. "D," who was in an advanced 
shell hole and was captured, gives his impression as 
follows : 

"About 7 o'clock Co. "D" was on the right of "B." 
I was in a shell hole with a sergeant. The company 
line was in rear of us. Machine gun fire kept us 
hugging the ground. Suddenly the sergeant jumped 
up and called out "Good God, Lieutenant, look what's 
coming." Germans appeared on my right and left, 
about 40 all told near me. One held a pistol on me 
and ordered me to surrender. They had one machine 
gun placed almost on my shell hole and were firing it 
past me. The Germans motioned to me to step over 
it, which I did. I was compelled to assist a wounded 
German down the slope to the Ravine. On my right 
I could see many more Germans and a crew of Amer- 
icans being compelled to pull a gun on wheels down 
toward the Ravine. Our barrage had not started. 
When it did open the Germans had withdrawn and 
thereafter kept moving away from it and did not suf- 
fer from it. They made me cairy a stretcher about 
six kilometers until about 3 p. m. I counted about 45 
Americans in my immediate party. We were con- 
ducted to Montmedy and then to Carlsruhe, then to 
Villigon and were finally returned after the Armistice 
via Switzerland." 

The line of Co.'s "B" and "D" retired under this 



222 ■ ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

attack to the Saint-Juvin-Saint- Georges road. The 
telephone of 1st Battalion was working and at 
7:15 information was received from Capt. Castle, 
Commanding, which was at once transmitted to Com- 
manding General, 163rd Brigade: 

"15th Oct., 7:20. First Battalion reports 328th 
Inf. fell back during night without notice.' The Bat- 
talion is being attacked now on our right flank which 
was exposed. Castle is being pushed back. 

Whitman/' 

He replied : "8 :29. Do not push your people too far 
ahead of troops on your right. 

Austin-1." 

The Support Battalion was thrown in to stiffen the 
line and one company of the Division Reserve was 
ordered to reinforce Castle's right. Before this last 
company started the line was restored and this order 
revoked. Meanwhile the Support Battalion was com- 
mitted to the action. Prompt action by Capt. Taylor 
with "A" and "C" Companies on Castle's right broke 
up the Boche line and they retired as quickly as they 
had advanced. In 15 minutes they had gone, leaving 
7 machine guns and 9 prisoners in our hands. 

"H" hour had now passed and our barrage which 
started at 7:25 had gone on and ceased. The lines 
advanced to the crest north of the road but could go 
no further. Heavy and continuous machine gun fire 
from front and both flanks held us on the crest. The 
report of operations Oct. 15th state? tne situation as 
follows : "In accordance with F. O. 25, the Division 
continued the attack this morning, got off on time, 
but after a short advance was compelled to halt on 
account of left and right Divisions being unable to 
advance." During the afternoon the attack was 
pushed again and the Ravine Anx Pierres reached. 20 
machine guns and some prisoners were taken. The 
Ravine was so thoroughly swept by enemy fire, that 
the troops withdrew again to the crest north of the 
main road and dug in for the night. The men were 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 223 

now nearly at the point of exhaustion from lack of 
sleep and from constant exposure to the cold and 
rain. The C. O. 1st Battalion reported his effectives 
as 7 officers and 125 men;' the C. O. 3rd Battalion 
reported 3 officers and 175 men. The night found us 
dug in along the road. 

Our Machine Gun Company had been detached and 
sent to Hill 182 North of Saint-Juvin. The Boche 
still held the West side of that town. An enemy at- 
tack against the town from the North was completely 
routed by the Company, without any Infantry as- 
sistance. Capt. Williams reported his Company alone 
in this exposed position all day. He won his D. S. C. 
here for the rescue of an American from five armed 
Germans. He dropped three with his pistol, wrested 
the rifle from the fourth, while the fifth Boche ran 
away. This was a real wild west show. He then ran 
his guns forward and spent a profitable day killing 
Boche who were filtering out of Saint-Juvin toward 
Champignuelles. He claims 200. 

Casualties Oct. 15th: 

Killed. 
1st Lieut. Thomas L. Bolster. 

Wounded. 
1st Lieut. W. P. Whelchel. 
1st Lieut. Fred S. Laubert. 
2nd Lieut. Wilbert Moore. 
2nd Lieut. Fred S. Trumbull. 

Oct. 16th. During the night orders were received 
for another attack by the First Army at 6 hours. The 
78th Division was to attack on our left and the 42nd 
on our right. We were to conform to the movement 
of the 78th. Our 2nd Battalion was placed under the 
orders of the Brigade Commander to capture Cham- 
pignuelles. His orders for this operation are shown 
further on. The 2nd Battalion of the 326th was given 
to the 325th and placed in support. The 3rd Bat- 
talion was to pass through the line of the 1st Battalion 



224 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

and form the attacking line. At H-hour the movement 
started. In spite of severe machine gun resistance we 
succeeded in pushing the left of our line into the 
Ravine Aux Pierres. The units that reached the rav- 
ine were Co/s "K" and "L." Our right was unable 
to advance and the troops were driven back from the 
Ravine. An artillery barrage was called for to assist 
the advance but it fell short. The following messages 
show the progress of the action : 

"From : 3rd Bn. 9 :20. 

"Left and center of front line in Ravine Aux Pier- 
res at 98.0-86.8 to about 98.5-87.0. The right of our 
line is just South of the Ravine held up by M. G. fire 
from right flank. Troops on our right reported not 
advancing. Our second line is just North of road 
from Saint-Juvin to Saint-Georges. Our 3rd line is 
500 meters further to rear. 

Melton/' 

"Later. Report that 326th has fallen back to Saint- 
Juvin-Saint-Georges road, leaving left flank of 325th 
unprotected and 94 kilometers ahead and subjected to 
fire. Urge immediate action to save Command from 
destruction. 

Melton/' 

14:20. Lieut. Col. Campbell reports that front 
lines are in shell holes 1/3 of distance between road 
and Ravine. 

The following message from Division Hdqrs. is 
significant : 

"From Captain Morgan, to: Austin 1, 16th Oct. 

"Am informed that 42nd Division not only did not 
receive orders to attack today but were ordered by the 
Army not to attack. Also that one regiment of the 
78th Division did not receive the order to attack until 
10 o'clock this morning." 

The 82nd Division seemed always to be in a salient. 

The situation is depicted by Lieut. Col. Campbell 
from the front line in the following message : 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 225 

"16th Oct. To: Austin-1. 

"Came out through vicious barrage. All over now. 
M. G. fire coming over, not bad. Varnado killed. Es- 
timate less than 250 in both battalions remaining fit 
for duty. Counter attack by enemy would be bad. 
Lines as stated by phone. Am not a calamity howler, 
but the officers and men are all in. Jones in good 
position as reserve but of course no shelter from ele- 
ments. Will get Melton and Castle together and or- 
ganize. Will move Jones back slightly, and put Mel- 
ton in support with his battalion less than 100. Castle 
with 1st Battalion and Cozine to hold line of road and 
have advanced parties in shell holes in front 200 yards. 
Am starting this now, execution of same to be made 

at dark. 

Campbell. 

Conditions were now bad. The Chauchat rifles 
were all out of working order. Enemy planes flew 
over our lines and directed harassing fire upon us. 

The effective strength at nightfall was reported as 
follows : 

1st Battalion 5 Officers 175 men 

3rd Battalion 3 Officers 120 men 

2nd Battalion 17 Officers 361 men 

Captain Varnado was rendered unconscious by a 
bursting shell and was left in the ravine for dead. 
Five days later he was rescued by our advancing lines. 
He had a spark of life left and he eventually recov- 
ered. 

Going back to the operation of the 2nd Battalion 
which had been detached from the Regiment on ac- 
count of its strength, the orders given to it were as 
follows : 

"From: Austin-1, to: C. O. 2nd Battalion, 325th 
Inf. 

u 16th Oct. You will advance with your battalion 
and establish a line from Champignuelles exclusive to 
points 97.3-87.4 South East to 98.0-86.3 connecting 
on your right with first battalion 326th Inf. The 



226 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

principal left position will be in the hollow 97.3-87.3 
and other positions in the Ravine will be taken along 
the Western slopes between the mouth of the Ravine 
South East to the end of your line. 

"You will advance one company at a time at long 
distances, keeping pace with the 78th Division on our 
left. Your movement is designed to protect right 
flank of the 78th from the east side of the valley of 
the Agron. You will not advance to your Northern 
limit unless protected from counter attack from 
Champignuelles either because Champignuelles is in 
American hands or the ground prevents counter at- 
tack from that direction. 

By Command Gen. Cronin. 

This movement was started but was checked by 
enemy M. G. fire from Champignuelles and the ad- 
jacent heights. When the assault line had advanced 
500 meters North of our front line the Brigade Com- 
mander ordered a withdrawal. 

The 2nd Battalion, 326th was during the night 
moved to our front line, relieving the 1st Battalion 
325th. The Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges road was now 
accepted as our front line with out-posts formed on 
the crest to the North. 

The following Officers were casualties during the 
day: 

Wounded. 
Capt. Samuel Varnado. 
Capt. W. O. Marshburn. 
1st Lieut. J. D. Deramus. 

Our M. G. Co. was moved back to South slope of 
ridge 85.5 and put under command of C. O. Machine 
gun Battalion. 

Oct. 17th. No attack was ordered and no demon- 
stration was made by the enemy. 

The following Officer was killed during the day: 

1st Lieut. George McCord. 
Our M. G. Co. was moved back to Saint- Juvin from 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 227 

which position it covered the movement of troops in 
the advance. 

Oct. 18th. The attack of the First Army was re- 
sumed at 6:30. The 82nd Division was to support 
and protect right flank of the 78th Division. Cham- 
pignuelles was to be gassed. Harassing fire was exe- 
cuted along the front. In the 163rd Brigade the line 
between the 325th and 326th was Meridian 97.3. 
This Regiment occupied the right half of the sector 
with following arrangement of Battalions 500 meters 
apart : 

2nd Battalion 326th. 

3rd Battalion 325th. 

1st Battalion 325th. 

The shift to accomplish this was completed by 5 
hours Oct. 18th. No advance was made in our lines. 
Patrols were sent out to watch the front. Our 2nd 
Battalion which was acting with 326th Infantry re- 
lieved the 1st Battalion 309th Inf. in Saint-Juvin and 
maintained liaison with 78th Division in Bois-de- 
Loges. 

Our M. G. Co. was put in Brigade Reserve and re- 
mained in that status until Oct. 21st. 

Oct. 19th. No change. 

The following Officer was wounded this date and 
died soon afterward : 

2nd Lieut. Joseph L. Lang. 

Oct. 20th. The position was wired during the night 
North of the main road. The 2nd Battalion, 326th 
passed out of command of C. O. 325th and went into 
Brigade Reserve. Jts place was taken by our 3rd 
Battalion. Our 2nd Battalion returned to the Regi- 
ment and was placed in reserve on ridge 85.5. Our 
1st Battalion then supported the leading Battalion at 
about 500 meters in rear. 

The following Officers were wounded during the 
day: 

1st Lieut. Charles C. Bettes. 
2nd Lieut. Fred E. Hoffman. 



228 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Oct. 21st. Co. "A" under Lieut. Ulmer was or- 
dered to seize the Ravine Aux-Pierres and the slope to 
the north thereof and to explore the ground to North 
East of this Ravine and the adjacent woods. Move- 
ment to start at 6-hours. The progress of this com- 
pany is best told by Lieut, (now Capt.) Ulmer as 
follows : 

"The company had one officer and 40 men left of 
an original strength of 4 officers and 220 men. These 
40 men were practically dead from exhaustion and 
sickness. When the company reached its objective, 
there were but eleven men left; the others having 
succumbed to fatigue. The spirit was willing but the 
flesh was weak. After reaching the high ground 
North of Ravine Aux-Pierrcs the Battalion comman- 
der was notified and the rest of the Battalion brought 
up. A new line was consolidated and wired, and 
nothing further of interest occurred, except the sys- 
tem of regular two day reliefs." 

This exploitation operation was protected by M. G. 
fire and artillery fire of 12 guns, commencing at 5 :30 
on North slope of the Ravine. This fire was raised at 
6 hours and continued untir 7. Both flanks of the 
Company were covered by patrols. 

The situation as reported at 4 P. M. by Lieut. Col. 
Campbell is best shown by his cheery message to 
Whitman : 

"Oct 21st. 

"I gave "D" Co. back to Castle at his request. Phones 
all out, please try to get them in. Everything lovely 
so far. Pretty heavy shelling. Will stick around 
for an hour or so and mosey back. Castle is driving 
this thing in good style. M. G. positions being recon- 
noitered and I think everything O. K. if 326 will look 
out for left. 

Campbell/'' 

Nothing further of interest occurred and no at- 
tacks called for up to Oct. 31st on which date the 
Division left the sector and the 325th passed into 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 229 

Corps Reserve, being relieved by battalions of the 
80th and 77th Divisions. 

On Oct. 26th the following was reported. 

"To C. O. 163rd Brigade. 

"The C. O. 1st Battalion reported at 16:10 hours 
2 planes firing with Machine Guns on his position 
along Saint-Juvin-Saint-Georges road. These planes 
were clearly marked with U. S. insignia and were num- 
bered 2 and 17. At 16:15 hours similar report was 
received from C. O. 3rd Battalion that same 2 planes 
fired on his front line in position North of Ravine 
Anx-Pierres. From observation point near Regi- 
mental P. C. these planes were seen firing tracer bul- 
lets. The planes were later seen retiring in a South- 
erly direction. Request prompt investigation and 

proper action. ,, r „ 

r r Whitman. 

Our work in the front line was now over. During 
the night of Oct. 31st we withdrew to the Argonne 
Forest as reserve. From there we fell back by short 
stages to Neufour, Pagny-la-Blanche-C ote , Soulacourt 
and other towns to reorganize our shattered forces. 
On the march back we heard on Nov. 11th of the 
armistice. It was with intense relief that we received 
this news. The 325th had done its bit nobly and had 
come through the greatest war in the world's history 
much reduced in numbers but conscious that it had 
played no mean part in the struggle for human liberty 
and in the suppression of the selfish and ambitious 
schemes of the most powerful military nation that the 
world has ever seen. When the work of the peace 
commission is finally concluded we will return to the 
homeland and to the resumption of the duties in 
civilian life that we left to answer the call to arms. 
All of us that have survived will be better fitted physi- 
cally and morally to do our part, in our country, in 
the development of the high ideals for which we have 
fought in France. 

W. M. WHITMAN, 
Colonel 325th Infantry. 



230 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

HQ. 82D DIV., AMERICAN E. F., FRANCE 

13 January 1919. 
GENERAL ORDERS 
NO. 1: 

1. The Commanding General announces to the 
Command the splendid conduct of the following 
officers and soldiers in action against the enemy as 
described after their respective names: 

EXTRACT 
Sgt. Victor 1897348 Vigorito, Co. A, 325th Infantry. 

On October 15, 1918, near ST. JUVIN, FRANCE, 
Sgt. Vigorito, with great bravery and devotion to duty, 
refused to leave his platoon, altho severely wounded, 
and continued to fight until an enemy counter-attack 
had been repulsed ; and, by this fine example, en- 
couraged the men of his platoon to greater effort. 

2. The Commanding General takes particular pride 
in announcing to the Command these fine examples of 
courage and self-sacrifice. Such deeds are evidence 
of that spirit of heroism which is innate in the highest 
type of the American soldier and responds unfailingly 
to the call of duty, wherever or whenever it may come. 

3. This order will be read to all organizations at 
the first formation after its receipt. 

By Command of MAJOR GENERAL DUNCAN : 

Gordon Johnston, 
OFFICIAL: Chief of Staff. 

R. L. Boyd, 

Major, A.G.D., Adjutant. 

Editor's Note. — At this place Vigorito ended his 
story. There is more of it that needs to be told for 
him. 

Vigorito was wounded in charging a machine gun 
nest. Of the bit of action the Brooklyn Daily Eagle 
of February 11, 1918, in an article about this soldier, 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 231 

quotes him as saying: "I remember our commander 
shouting 'Don't bunch up, boys.' 

"Sergeant O'Brien of the first platoon was easily the 
first man to reach it from the front, and he threw a 
grenade. Sergeant Orr of the third platoon attacked 
from the right, and I, with the faithful Fourth, at- 
tacked from the left. Although we captured this im- 
portant position, it was at this spot, Sergeant Orr was 
killed, Sergeant O'Brien and myself wounded. 

"Our commanding officer, still thoughtful of his 
men, quickly bandaged my wound, as he beckoned for 
the Germans we had captured, to proceed to the rear. 
I ran over to my men, although T was ordered to the 
dressing station for treatment. I don't remember what 
happened after this, as I fainted from loss of blood." 




SERGEANT MICHAEL DONALDSON 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 233 



XII 



THE NATIONAL ARMY AND OTHER TROOPS 

STORIES OF THE 77TH, 38TH, 42ND, 26TH, 
ENGINEERS, ETC. 

Sergeant Michael Donaldson 

Bom in Haverstraw, moved to New York City. Enlisted in 
69th Regiment July 13, 1917. Overseas with Regiment. Pro- 
moted for bravery. Awarded Distinguished Service Cross. 
Croix de Guerre zvith palm, Medaille Militaire and recom- 
mended for Congressional Medal of Honor. A tribute to 
Father Duffy. 

His Own Story 



HONORABLE DISCHARGE FROM THE 
UNITED STATES ARMY 

To All Whom It May Concern : 

THIS IS TO CERTIFY, That Michael A. Don- 
aldson, Sgt. Co. I., 165th Infantry, THE UNITED 
STATES ARMY, as a Testimonial of Honest and 
Faithful Service, is hereby Honorably Discharged 
from the military service of the United States bv 
reason of Circular 106 W. D., 1918. 

Said Michael A. Donaldson was born in Haver- 
straw, in the State of New York. When he enlisted 
he was 30 2/12 years of age and by occupation a 
boxing instructor. 

He had Blue eyes, Brown hair, Fair complexion, and 
was 5 feet 10 inches in height. 

Given under my hand at Camp Dix, N. J., this 5th 
day of May, one thousand nine hundred and nine- 
teen. 



234 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

ENLISTMENT RECORD 

Name : Michael A. Donaldson. Grade : Sergt. 

Enlisted, July 13th, 1917, at New York, N. Y. 

Serving in first enlistment period of date of discharge. 

Prior service:* None. 

Non-commissioned officer: Sergt. 

Marksmanship, gunner qualification or rating: Not 
qualified. 

Horsemanship : Not mounted. 

Battles, engagements, skirmishes, expeditions : Cham- 
pagne, Marne Def. Oisne, Marne Def., Meuse, Ar- 
gonne Off., St. Mehiel Off., Luneville Sec, Bac- 
corat Sec, Fre de Vadenay Sec, Pannes Essy Sec, 
Army of Occupation. 

Knowledge of any vocation : Boxing instructor. 

Wounds received in service : None. 

Physical condition w T hen discharged : Good. 

Typhoid Prophylaxis completed Sept. 1st, 1917. 

Paratyphoid Prophylaxis completed Sept. 1st, 1917. 

Married or single : Single. 

CHARACTER: Excellent. 

Remarks : Distinguished Service Cross, Medaille 
Militaire, Croix de Guerre, Served with Co. I., 165th 
Inf. from July 13th, 1917, to date of Dischg. Pro- 
moted for bravery. Served in France and Germany. 

A.W.O.L. from 8-12-18 to 9-15-18. 

Signature of soldier. 

My name is Michael A. Donaldson. I was born in 
Haverstraw, N. Y., on May 6th, 1887. About six 
years ago I came to New York City. On July 13th, 
1917, I enlisted in the Sixty-ninth Infantry, Co. I., 
under the late Major James A. McKenna, Jr. The 
day after war was declared I had volunteered to fight 
for my country, and telegraphed to President Wilson. 
He sent me a card thanking me for the offer of my 
services. 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 235 

I trained at Camp Mills and went overseas by way 
of Montreal on the good ship "Tunisian," which was 
sunk on the return trip to Halifax, Nova Scotia, by a 
German torpedo. Landed at Liverpool, and remained 
in England for a day; then crossed the English 
Channel on the "Londonderry" to La Havre, France. 
We stayed at Havre two days, and then entrained for 
Bouve, which is thirty kilos from the birthplace of 
Joan of Arc. 

Under command of the late Major McKenna, one 
of the greatest leaders of men the world has ever 
had, we trained for open warfare, and learned all 
the tricks of the Boche. We remained there for three 
weeks, building rifle ranges, and devoting some time 
to bayonet practice. Then we started on the famous 
four-day hike to the ancient city of La Grande, 
France.' This was one of the world's most famous 
hikes, made through snow and sleet. 

We remained at Bouve until Christmas Day, and 
then went to Hennilly Cotton, from where we went to 
Langau. There began our strenuous training for in- 
troduction to the trenches. Col. Wm. J. Donovan 
of our regiment, was in command as Major at that 
time. Major McKenna was then a captain, and that 
soldier of soldiers, Rev. Francis P. Duffy, one of 
God's noblest men, gave us a 50-50 heart to heart talk 
on playing the game as American soldiers should. 

He was with us in all our trials and weary marches, 
the dreary days in the trenches, when it seemed next 
to impossible that we would ever come out alive, and 
by his example, his brave understanding, comradeship 
and his great spirituality, he breathed the fire of life 
into the soul of the Sixty-ninth. 

To Father Duffy, perhaps more than to any other 
one man, just and generous recognition is due for the 
splendid work which the Sixty-ninth Regiment wrote 
into the military history of the United States Army. 

I never will forget the day of my first baptism of 
fire from the black-skulled Huns. It was at Lune- 
ville, where the Sixty-ninth first came under fire. 



236 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

Captain McKenna was in Co. D at that time, the first 
company of our regiment to go into action for democ- 
racy against Prussian militarism. 

We came up in the morning about nine o'clock into 
an innocent looking woods, from the outside, but what 
a devilish place it proved to be when once we were in 
it. About two o'clock in the afternoon, I was stand- 
ing beside Lieutenant Hally Crimmins and Sergeant 
Gainey of Co. D. We were near an outpost, when the 
Boche tossed over one of their Austrian 88's, and 
struck a small shanty about ten feet away from where 
we were standing, hitting and wounding Corporal 
Lyons and Private Thayer. They followed that up 
with a vindictive bombardment, and we were all ner- 
vous for the time being, but never a man backed an 
inch. We stayed where we were put, because we had 
gone to France for that purpose : — to drive the Hun, 
and not be driven by him. 

We finally entered the trenches, took over the sec- 
tor, and then the fun began. This was in the win- 
ter, February 27th. 

Now just get what that means. Long zig-zagging 
trenches whose parapets were swept by machine-gun 
fire and combed by German snipers. The trenches, 
themselves, knee deep in mud, and sometimes worse 
than that. The little dugouts provided for the shelter 
of the men from shell fire, alive with vermin, walls 
damp, and floors muddy. The weather was a com- 
bination of snow and rain, so that between the two, 
we knew about the sum of human misery. 

It was our first experience, but the steel was in our 
hearts and the gallant example of our officers sup- 
ported us through these first awful hours. I cannot 
say too much about the splendid discipline of our 
men. For after all, we expected the officers to be 
brave and uncomplaining, but the great miracle was 
the behavior of the boys themselves, the intelligent 
bravery of these men who had volunteered to live or 
die, that the cause of right might triumph. We knew 
that we had to buy victory with human agony and 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 237 

the blood of our best men, we were there to pay the 
price, and pay we did, but don't forget that the Boche 
paid in full for all that we went through. 

On March 8th, we came out from our first experi- 
ences on the line, sure of ourselves, for we had the 
Boche's number, and we knew that man for man we 
were better than he was. As we were going out of 
the lines, we met the 149th Artillery from Chicago, 
which had been behind us when we were in the 
trenches. One of the boys called to me : 

"How do you feel, Mike?" 

"Splendid," said I, "and I'll tell you Chicago fel- 
lows something, that the Sixty-ninth will walk into 
hell, with a smile and a cigarette, as long as the good 
old 149th Artillery is behind us with their guns." 

I'll tell you something, a lot of credit wants to be 
given to these Chicago boys of the 149th Artillery, who 
had come out of civil life, the same as the rest of us 
had, and in so short a time learned to handle their 
guns so well, that the Hun himself knew a special 
high-powered, new fangled kind of hell had been 
brought over from America, whenever he found the 
Sixty-ninth in the line with the guns of the 149th 
barking at their heels. 

Some time after this, along in April, we did our 
second hitch in the trenches; this was at Montigny in 
the Baccarat sector, and an awful place that sector 
was. I have seen articles in the paper which referred 
to it as a "rest sector" and "training sector," but I'll 
tell New York and the World that it was a darned 
poor place to work, for they sure did keep me busy. 

There I had some very interesting experiences, 
when Captain McKenna sent Lieutenant Edw. Con- 
nolly, Sergeant Tom O'Malley and myself to what 
he described, with a twinkle in his eye as "a quiet 
listening post." 

I'll tell you just about how quiet it was. The sec- 
ond day, while I was doing a twelve hour shift, the 
hour before dawn, which is the lonesomest hour in 
the world to a soldier in the face of the enemy, the 



238 ECHOES FROM OYER THERE 

very time when men's spirits are lowest, and life it- 
self seems to hang by but a thread, when one is mind- 
ful that the lives of hundreds of his comrades, the 
reputation of the regiment, and the troops of his 
country are in his hands. 

My instructions that night from Lieutenant Con- 
nolly were, "Look out for mustard gas !" 

Just in front of my post, where Corporal Tex 
Baker, of Co. B, Sixty-ninth, was killed, the German 
snipers had a camouflaged position from which they 
were firing on the intermediate post. A fellow named 
Matthews pegged a few back. That set me a-going, 
and, forgetting that on my listening post I should 
keep myself concealed, I took the chance of giving 
them a few on my own account. 

Believe me, I started something then. 

What followed, was the greatest razzle-dazzle I 
was ever in. I fired 280 rounds before I stopped. 
You could have broiled a steak on the barrel of my 
old Springfield; but I'll say this was a quiet sector 
after that, and perhaps that is the time that the news- 
paper correspondents saw it and wrote about it. 

Of course, the Germans did not publish their casu- 
alty lists, but if anyone could get hold of the records 
of the German war office for that day, they would find 
that the German clerks worked overtime that night, 
while when the Sixty-ninth counted off, we were all 
present and accounted for. I well remember the quiet 
smile on Major McKenna's face when we met as I 
came back from that row. I heard it said that Mc- 
Kenna only smiles once in a while. It was also re- 
ported that when the Colonel told Father Duffy about 
it, the corners of the Father's mouth turned up. 

The next big days of duty in which the Sixty-ninth 
figured, were in the Champagne-Marne fighting. It 
was at Chalons sur Marne on July 15th that the Boche 
really found out just what we had to offer. 

You will recall, from what you have read of the 
war in France, that the Germans had broken through 
the French front and advanced through the lines at 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 239 

one place across the Marne, while at Chateau-Thierry, 
their advance was only thirty-five miles from Paris. 

They had brought up and put in place their big 
Berthas with which they intended to bombard Paris. 
The capture of Chalons was the first thing to be done. 

Here we had a real chance at that open style of war- 
fare which Americans like, and at which we have no 
equals in the world, unless perhaps it be the fellows 
from Canada and Australia, who think as we do. Our 
guests on this day were the famous Prussian guards, 
the finest fighting men in the German army, here was 
their introduction to us, and ours to them. We had 
been looking for them for some time, and when we 
met it was a case of Greek meeting Greek. They had 
been told that the Americans were in front of them, 
and that nothing would do so much to hasten the 
German victory as to wipe out the Americans, and 
there wasn't a boy in the Sixty-ninth who didn't know 
that the rougher we treated the Prussian guards, the 
quicker would the war be over. 

What we did to the Prussian guards created a scan- 
dal in the Royal family that day, and the Crown 
Prince got lock-jaw trying to explain to the Kaiser 
why it was that the wild Irishmen of the Sixty-ninth 
had failed to surrender to the son of the All-highest. 

Iowa and Alabama were in the line that day, along 
with the Sixty-ninth, and Ohio as well. But the 
Prussian guards, as they advanced to attack our lines, 
passed these other Americans and struck at the Sec- 
ond Battalion of the Sixty-ninth, under the com- 
mand of Major Anderson and Capt. Johnny Proutt. 
There was joy in the hearts of the Sixty-ninth as they 
saw themselves singled out by the flower of the Hun 
army for this delicate attention. 

The Germans advanced in mass formation, filled 
with the idea that they were going to walk over the 
Irish and head a triumphal march to Paris. 

The old 149th Artillery was laying "doggo" back 
of our line and had their guns trained on the ap- 
proaching Huns. 



240 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

The Second Battalion held its fire; the guns were 
silent; the Germans swept on with rising spirits to 
what looked like an easy victory. 

But, oh boy ! we could almost see the whites of 
their eyes when the 149th Artillery sent them a card 
with the compliments of Bath-House John. The card 
consisted of a squall of shrapnel, in which the guns 
crossed their fire, and to the accompaniment of the 
deep bass of the guns, the infantry of the Rainbows 
opened up from all flanks. It sure was some righting. 
The Rye Loaves danced on the barb-wire in front of 
the position for seven kilos, looking like dancing mar- 
ionettes in the Punch and Judy show. 

Of course, the Hun got his taste of our blood, for 
the Sixty-ninth alone reported some 138 casualties, 
but the ground before us was carpeted with the dead 
of the Prussian guard, which had its ranks shot to 
pieces and its morale broken, as the result of this first 
encounter with the American boys. 

This was the turning point of the war. The mili- 
tary action in this battle was decisive, in the way the 
German morale was broken from the minute when the 
Germany army had its best troops whipped by a few 
Americans, who had dropped their business to take 
up soldiering for the few months needed to finish the 
job. Forty years of intensive military training was 
behind the Boche, and scarcely as many weeks back 
of the Yankees. 

We left Champagne on July 18th for Vandenay in 
the Chateau-Thierry sector, to finish the work which 
the First, Second and Third Divisions had started. We 
had lots of help, for it seemed that all the Americans 
in France were headed our way. Just to keep our 
fighting edge sharp while we were resting at Vande- 
nay, the German fliers paid us a night visit. They 
bombed us, and we had to take it, and it certainly 
warmed us up for work that was ahead. 

We entrained at St. Hillaire, and after two days 
got off at Chateau-Thierry and hiked through the 
rain, sleeping in the woods until on the night of the 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 241 

27th of July, when we came under the heaviest bom- 
bordment we ever experienced during the war. The 
following morning we got orders to go "over the top." 

We had to cross the Ourcq. The boys called it the 
Red River, for the stream sure did run red with the 
blood of fighting men during the battle at that place. 

The first man to cross the river was Lieutenant 
Patty Dowling, of Co. K of the Sixty-ninth, who gave 
his life in the line of duty, when he led the men across 
the stream. It was Co. I. of the Sixty-ninth, under 
Major James A. McKenna, Jr., who commanded what 
was known as the Shamrock battalion of the regi- 
ment, that first crossed and maintained their position 
on the far side of the Ourcq. 

What a battle it was ! 

It will always be embedded in my memory. How I 
hate to recall it for so many of my friends and pals 
paid the prire in full for our victory that day. 

In this fight I was transferred from Co. I to Bat- 
talion headquarters of Major McKenna, as the con- 
fidential laison officer of the battalion. This was in 
recognition of my work in previous engagements at 
Luneville, Baccarat and Champagne, and I sure felt 
it a great honor to hold so trusty a position under such 
a brave and distinguished officer, for no war and no 
army ever produced a better soldier than Major Mc- 
Kenna. I'll never forget the wave of sorrow that 
swept over me and the entire regiment when the word 
went out that the gallant McKenna was dead. 

He died as he would have wished, with his face 
to the foe, in the midst of his men, cheering them 
on, exposing himself while he directed them how to 
cover themselves. It brings the tears to my eyes, even 
yet, as it did on that day, when I think of the splendid 
fellow he was and the noble way in which he died. 

For this, too, the Germans paid in full, to the flaming 
muzzles and the angry bayonets of the "Fighting 
Irish." We wrote his epitaph in the German casualty 
lists, and there it will remain. 

The whole German line from Switzerland to the 



242 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

sea felt the weight of our charge across the Ourcq, 
for it meant that the German lines of communication 
in the Chateau-Thierry sector were cut, the strongest 
positions this side of the Vesle River turned, while 
the Hun was forced to a rapid retreat in which he 
abandoned troops, wounded, machine-guns, ammuni- 
tion, gathered for the great offensive against Paris. 

It was the 69th that opened the door and held it 
open for the invincible American Infantry to dash 
through and gain their positions along the line of the 
Vesle River. We were relieved after this battle, about 
August 11th, and then went to the rear for replace- 
ments, and God knows we needed them, for companies 
had been reduced to squads and battalions to compan- 
ies, while the regiment was reduced in strength. But 
the soul of the 69th was stronger for the lives of the 
men who had fought, and the new men who came to 
us quickly gained the spirit of the "Fighting Irish," 
and we were soon ready to do our bit in the first All- 
American offensive at St. Mihiel on September 12th. 

St. Mihiel was a foot race more than it was a fight. 
Our artillery once more distinguished itself. The 
149th Artillery from Chicago was there, and it must 
have done their hearts good, when they saw how easy 
for us the whaling they gave the so-called impregnable 
German positions, made the going for us. 

It may seem strange, when you read about this ter- 
rible war, that I went through this fight without even 
getting a chance to fire a shot. We ran our feet raw, 
trying to keep up with the retreating Germans. We 
did not fire our guns though we took "kancouf" pris- 
oners, and gathered in German guns and military 
equipment until we could not keep track of them, 
while the German supplies with their stores of fine 
German beer and wine, furnished us an elaborate menu 
for the celebration of the victory, which the 69th and 
the 149th Inf. pulled off with a grand barrage of 
popping corks. 

After St. Mihiel, our next fight was in the Argonne 
Forest. There I began to reap a harvest of decora- 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 243 

tions. There came to me the American D. S. C, 
French Medaille Militaire, the Croix de Guerre with a 
palm, and also a recommendation for the greatest dec- 
oration in the world, the American Congressional 
Medal of Honor. 

The Medaille Militaire is the highest French deco- 
ration to enlisted men, and carries the face of the 
saintly Toan of Arc, who seemed to be with us as we 
fought for that France that she loved so well. 

The fighting in the Argonne and the taking of Hill 
288 at Landres St. George, called for all the experience 
and valor that was in a man. But we did the job and 
did it right, though it cost us the lives of many brave 
fellows. . 

That was a time when we went to battle tired and 
hungry, for we were fighting and not feeding, and ac- 
cording to the old American fashion we went hungry 
when we fought, because, as the late Major McKenna 
used to say, "An Irishman fights better on an empty 
stomach." 

During these trying days we were greatly cheered 
by the presence of Father Duffy, and the re-appear- 
ance of his assistant, Father Joseph Hanley, of Cleve- 
land, Ohio, who had been hit at the Ourcq, but got up 
in time for the wind-up, and to be decorated with the 
D. S. C. Father Hanlev was another great favorite 
of the boys. He was a real fighting man and the army 
missed a great captain when Hanley went into the 
priesthood, but he certainly made it up as he cheered 
us through those bloody days. In the fighting in the 
forest around Hill 288, we lost Captain Mike Walsh, 
of Co. I, and in the fighting around that hill, prac- 
tically all of the Old 69th were killed or wounded. 

Here, we were fighting what was left of the Prus- 
sian Guards, and the best sharp-shooters the German 
army could muster were against us once more, with 
orders to shoot the 69th to death. But you cannot kill 
a regiment ; replacements came in and we still carried 
on, and the souls of the men who had fallen marched 
with us against the foe. 



244 ECHOES FRO MOVER THERE 

We finished the war before the city of Sedan, where 
we halted our advance to allow the French to have 
the honor of marching first into this city of such great 
historic significance to them. After the signing of the 
Armistice, we hiked to St. Marie, Belgium, and then 
crossed the line at Bollondorf, Germany, in December 
to become part of the American Army of Occupation. 
We went to Remagen on the Rhine, and returned to 
the U. S. this spring. 



COMPANY "A," 325th INFANTRY 
December 20, 1918 

From : CO. Co. "A," 325th Infantry. 
To: CO. 325th Infantry. 

Subject: History of Company "A," 325th Infantry, 
Meuse-Argonne Operations. 

Company "A" first took an active part in the ad- 
vance on October 10th, when the first Battalion jumped 
from the ridge northwest of Chatel Chehery with its 
objective the ridges west and northwest of Cornay. 

We were in the support, following Company "C" at 
300 yards. When the objective was reached "A" Com- 
pany sent out two platoons whose mission was to ad- 
vance to the Ayre River and there establish outposts 
for the night. At noon that day these platoons reached 
the high ground southeast of Marcq and were there 
held up by intense Artillery fire of both the enemy 
and our own forces. The two remaining platoons, 
stayed on the objective until late that night, when they 
were sent out as patrols to the Ayre River to seek for 
suitable fords or crossing places. 

At 3:00 o'clock on the morning of October 11th, 
the Company was recalled to the ridge Northwest of 
Cornay and proceeded from there through Cornay to 
Fleville, through Fleville up the Fleville-St. Juvin 
Road until it reached the junction of the Fleville-Som- 
merance Road. It was then approximately 7 :00 o'clock 
and the entire Battalion rested, in combat group for- 
mations in the open field west of the road. Toward 



ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 245 

noon we were taken up the Fleville-Sommerance road, 
but as we proceeded along the road we met the 327th 
Infantry withdrawing over the hills from Sommer- 
ance, making it impossible to go further. We retraced 
our steps and then went up toward St. Juvin. At the 
Junction of the Fleville- Juvin Road and the Sommer- 
ance-St. Juvin Road, the Company Commander, Cap- 
tain L. L. Battey, was killed. The second in command 
received the order to "Take that hill," the hill north 
of the Sommerance-St. Juvin Road being indicated. 
The attack was to start at 14:30 hours, although it 
was then 14:35. Arriving at the jumping off place, it 
was found that "L" Company was on our left, and no 
one at all on our right. Nor were there any supports. 
The crest of the hill, our objective, was taken, but 
due to our own Artillery falling short we had to with- 
draw below the crest. That night, the 327th came up 
and connected with our right flank. 

The next day, October 12th, the line was reorgan- 
ized. "A" Company was in the right front position, 
with Company "D" on its left, the 327th on our right, 
and Company "C" in support. We remained in this 
position until the 14th. On October 13th, at 16:00 
hours, the enemy counter-attacked but were driven off. 

On October 14th, at 10:00 o'clock, we again ad- 
vanced, the formation being still the same ; this Com- 
pany on the right front with Company "D" on its left. 
Company "C" in support, following at 300 yards, and 
the 328th, which had relieved the 327th on our right. 
Severe resistance was encountered at 86.3, 99.3, but 
this was quickly overcome, this company capturing 
many prisoners, which were all the prisoners taken by 
the Regiment that day, and a number of machine guns. 
The advance that day continued until we reached the 
high ground north of the Landres-St. Georges-St. 
Juvin Road, just south of the Ravine Au Pierre. It 
was utterly impossible to go farther, because the 328th 
had failed to come up on our right, and we were sub- 
ject to murderous flanking fire, both machine gun and 
artillery. We had been in constant liaison with the 



246 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

328th, but found now that there was only one platoon 
there, which had become separated from its Battalion 
and which had advanced with us. 

On the morning of October 15th, the enemy again 
counter-attacked, and were again repulsed. They left 
behind them many dead and eight machine guns. "A" 
Company was still in the front line with Company 
"C" in support, but we had suffered so severely that 
we had to call for two platoons from our support to 
reinforce us. 

On the afternoon of the 15th, and the morning of 
the 16th, the Third Battalion attacked. This Com- 
pany in both instances was on the right of the support 
Battalion, 500 yards in the rear of the attacking Bat- 
talion. No advance was made on either occasion. 

Company "A" remained in this position until Octo- 
ber 21st, when it was detailed as an exploitation patrol 
to penetrate into the Ravine Au Pierre and to estab- 
lish itself on the high ground beyond. The objective 
was reached about 7 :30, in spite of heavy machine 
gun fire from the direction of St. Juvin, and concen- 
trated trench-mortar fire in the Ravine. A new line 
was consolidated and wired north of Au Pierre, with 
Company "A" on the right, Company "C" on the left, 
and the 328th on the right rear. There followed noth- 
ing further of interest. A system of regular two-day 
reliefs by Battalions was instituted, and we thus moved 
in rotation, from front line to reserve, reserve to sup- 
port, and from support back to the front line. At the 
time the Regiment was relieved, we were in the reserve 

position - Capt, 325th Inf., 

Herman Ulmer, 
Comd'g Co. "A." 

The casualties of the 82nd Division in France were : 
Killed and wounded, 8,800. Official estimate believed 
to be too low. 

The casualties of the 325th Infantry of the 82nd Di- 
vision, were : Officers killed and wounded, 53 ; en- 
listed men killed and wounded, 1,653; total, 1,706. 



ECHOES FRO M OVER THERE 247 

EXTRACT FROM THE SUMMARY OF 
INTELLIGENCE 

42nd Division, A. E. F. 
March 31 to April 1, 1919 

Miscellaneous 

10. The relief of the 42nd Division from the Third 
U. S. Army and its assignment to the S. O. S. for 
transportation to America marks the close of the third 
epoch in its career as a first line Division of the Allied 
Armies. 

Beginning in the latter part of February, 1918, the 
Division was engaged in Sector warfare in Lorraine 
for four months. During this time it occupied a front 
once strongly organized, but which had been allowed 
to fall into decay. Here the Division maintained com- 
munications, dug and repaired trenches, made and re- 
pelled raids, became accustomed to shell fire, under- 
went two projector gas attacks of considerable severity 
and found itself as a cohesive, self-reliant intersup- 
porting fighting unit. 

Trained and rendered ruggedly confident by this ex- 
perience the Division embarked upon its second epoch. 
It began its career as a Shock Division in the great 
defensive battle against the Germans in Champagne 
on July 15, 1918. In this, its first major action, the 
Division took a splendid part in the bloody repulse in- 
flicted by General Gourard's Fourth Army upon the 
great offensive and earned the official and personal 
commendation of the French Command. When the 
German advance had been definitely and forever 
checked in this battle the Division was moved overland 
to the line above Chateau-Thierry where, relieving five 
battered American and French Divisions it advanced 
by desperate open fighting against choice German 
troops a distance of 19^ kilometers. 

Relieved and sent to the rear for rest and replace- 
ments, the fighting at the front was so severe that the 
Division could not be spared and was in a few days 



248 ECHOES FROM OVER THERE 

returned to the line to take part in the St. Mihiel 
operation. After the Salient had ceased to exist, the 
Division, pausing long enough to organize the front 
on its new line, moved to the Argonne. Attacking first 
on the front opposite St. Georges and Landres-et St. 
Georges and there advancing until the First Army 
made its pause for breath, the Division again attacked 
and drove forward through countless obstacles of de- 
fense and terrain until it was relieved at the Armistice 
in the outskirts of Sedan, having gained somewhat 
more than 19 kilometers. 

From the area southeast of Sedan where the Divi- 
sion lay on November 11th it entered its third epoch. 
Marching overland through devastated country and 
over roads rendered impassable by shell fire, mines, 
rain and prodigious traffic it proceeded to Montmedy 
whence it crossed Belgium, Luxemburg and that part 
of Germany lying west of the Rhine until on December 
15, it reached its present location after a march of 360 
kilometers. The 42ncl Division has formed a part of 
the Army of Occupation from the middle of November 
until date and during its administration of Kreis 
Ahrweiler the district has been law-abiding, prosperous 
and friendly. 

The 42nd Division proudly asserts that it has spent 
more days in the face of the enemy, gained more 
ground against the enemy and marched further in its 
operations than any other Division in the American 
Expeditionary Forces. It has been opposed by the 
best Divisions in the German Army and has made its 
record at their expense. Its fighting power has been 
officially mentioned by the American, French and Ger- 
man Commands, and its order and discipline have 
elicited the admiration of the Germans in its area of 
occupation. 

By command of Brigadier General Gatley. 

William H. Hughes, Jr. 
Colonel, General Staff. 

Chief of Staff. 



W 88 








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